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LION GARDINER 


A Tale of the Pequot War 

BY 

ISABELLA H. GRAHAM / 




Privately Printed 
By permission of the Author 



Copyright 1918 by 
ISABELLA H. GRAHAM 


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AUG 13 1918 / 

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In Loving Memory 
of 

MRS. JOHN LYON GARDINER 


* 


I 


CHAPTER I. 


In the year 1635 when the fury of the Thirty Years’ 
War had spread its reign of terror over the whole of 
Europe — every kingdom being more or less stricken 
by fire, sword and famine — there was as little peace to 
be found beyond the great ocean that separates the old 
world from the new. 

It was not so much the destructive war waged by 
a dominating power against a weaker one that dis- 
turbed the peace of the new-founded colonies, but 
rather the struggle of a solitary people with the 
former possessors of the American continent, — the 
hostile and often bloodthirsty tribes of Indians. 

On one side, indeed, it became a bitter feud, for 
the natives were only too well aware that for them 
it was a matter of entire subordination or extermi- 
nation on the part of the invaders. Hence they 
sought to drive these away by craft and cunning — 
burned their dwellings, and with murder and all 
sorts of dastardly acts proved themselves repeatedly 
implacable enemies to the white people. 

Although, according to tradition, the Northmen had 
reached America in A. D. 1000, and nearly five hun- 
dred years later the Spaniards, under the leadership 
of Christopher Columbus, this rich new world was 


A Tale of the Pequot War. 


still very inaccessible to the sons of Europe, inasmuch 
as the master heirs of North America made it almost 
impossible for the latter there to gain a firm foothold. 

But Spain had opened to Europe the great Western 
Hemisphere ! 

And following in the wake of the Spanish and 
Portuguese came the English, familiar with navigation, 
and first to undertake the exploration of the freshly 
discovered wonderland. 

For more than a century had England’s sovereigns 
attempted to plant her flag on American soil — with the 
greatest sacrifices had Elizabeth repeatedly sent Sir 
Francis Drake across the sea to found colonies in 
Florida — but in vain ! 

The animosity of the Indians shattered all such 
schemes. 

More fortunate seemed the French, who better 
understood how to put themselves on a friendly foot- 
ing with the aborigines — but the severe climate of 
Canada, where they arrived in the year 1535, soon 
drove these also back to the more temperate climate of 
their own country. 

Not until a century later — in 1620 — did the Chris- 
tian charity and tough endurance of God-fearing men 
succeed where the bold attacks and selfish love of 
conquest of the first settlers had failed. 


A Tale of the Pequot War. 


3 


After a stormy voyage of two months, attended 
with much privation and risk of life to her passengers 
(about one hundred, including women and children), 
the ship Mayflower made a successful landing on the 
rugged coast of New England. 

These persons who called themselves Pilgrims were 
proven in trial and renunciation, possessing the 
spiritual strength and tenacity of purpose which, more 
than physical endurance and audacious courage, were 
suited to overcome obstacles and cope with dangers 
that the English had previously succumbed to in 
America. 

A favorable location for a colony was long sought 
by the Pilgrims, and they finally settled where is now 
the town of Plymouth. Their troubles and distress, 
however, had by no means come to an end, for, after 
the fatigue of the voyage and the hardship of journey- 
ings by land came a stern and rigorous winter with 
poverty and sickness. Not the least of their trials 
was the necessity of treating with the Indians in order 
to gain the good will of the latter and thus be enabled 
to build their town in peace. So true charity, inde- 
fatigable perseverance, patience and foresight accom- 
plished the almost impossible — and the young colony 
throve slowly but surely. 

Reports concerning the Pilgrims that had reached 


4 


A Tale of the Pequot War. 


England, their mother country, awakened a desire 
among some energetic and adventurous men to seek, 
likewise, their fortune beyond the Atlantic. 

Thus it happened that fifteen years after this first 
emigration to New England a number of noblemen, 
not content to remain in their own country under the 
reign of Charles I, — that weak and yet tyrannical 
monarch — met together in conference, with the result 
that they applied for and obtained from the British 
government a patent authorizing them to establish 
a permanent home on the banks of the Connecticut 
River in the new world beyond the sea. 

There were many names of distinction among these 
adventurous cavaliers — Sir Richard Saltonstall, Lord 
Brooke, Lord Say and Sele, Colonel Fenwick and even 
Oliver Cromwell before he became Lord Protector 
were at the head of the enterprise. 

As governor of the province they proposed to found, 
the lords had already selected a young man, John 
Winthrop by name. 

To these noblemen, reared in luxury, it appeared 
of paramount importance that a suitable habitation 
should be prepared in the wilderness, and they wisely 
decided to send an engineer with instructions to erect 
buildings and fortifications; they, themselves, agree- 


A Tale of the Pequot War. 


5 


ing to supply the funds necessary for the carrying 
out of the plans. 

A man thoroughly fitted for the task they found in 
Lion Gardiner, who was not only a very competent 
engineer, but a well trained soldier, having done good 
service in Holland, in the army of the Prince of 
Orange. 

Of this Lion Gardiner I would like to tell you, and 
at the same time, you shall hear of a little island-king- 
dom than which nothing more ideal could be imagined. 

Distant about four miles from the easternmost 
point of Long Island, and belonging to the State of 
New York, lies Gardiner’s Island, a gem of verdure 
in the waste of waters, “the world forgetting, by the 
world forgot.” 

No street noises or smoke of railroads — none of the 
loud bustle of city life can penetrate this beautiful 
Eden. 

Venerable trees rise above a tangled growth of luxu- 
riant vegetation; sunny hills give pasture to flocks of 
gentle sheep : there is a grassy slope where sleep the 
island’s dead — all surrounded by bright, sparkling 
water that to-day, placid and smooth as a mirror, may 
to-morrow be a seething mass ! 

Such is the undisturbed state of nature where Lion 


6 


A Tale of the Pequot War . 


Gardiner made his home more than two hundred and 
fifty years ago. 

We will now return to the events before mentioned 
which induced His Britannic Majesty’s independent 
subjects to leave their native land and expose them- 
selves to a life of hardship and danger in the midst of 
a wilderness. 


CHAPTER II. 


A dense fog lay over the sea and a cold wind 
whistled through the rigging of a bark that made but 
slow progress owing to damaged yards and torn sails. 
On the deck, forward, in the bow of the vessel, stood 
a man in the vigor of youth, of a military bearing, his 
strong features wearing an expression of anxious 
suspense. Gazing steadily in one direction the gray 
eyes seemed almost to be staring into vacancy, as they 
strove to penetrate the veil of mist that hovered 
between sky and water. Beside him, in his motionless 
attitude of observation, was the graceful figure of a 
woman. Gently laying her hands on his shoulder, she 
enquired in a tone of voice that sounded very languid : 
“Shall we really be able to land to-day, Lion ? Do you 
think it possible that our almost exhausted crew will 
succeed in guiding the injured vessel half-bereft of her 
sails into Boston Harbor? Oh, Lion! What have 
we not endured on this long, long voyage !” 

“Has my dear Mary’s courage failed? She, who 
has been brave all the way over, and so uncomplain- 
ing, while we men had well nigh lost heart. Why so 
suddenly depressed? What mean these forebodings? 
Have confidence still in Providence and in the skill 
of our mariners. Believe me, to-day your foot will 


8 A Tale of the Pequot War. 

touch American soil. Look yonder, where the fog is 
more transparent and the sun appears like a red 
ball, — there lies the coast, where we shall land in a 
few hours, even before nightfall. Courage, dear wife ! 
Think of the future undismayed. Am I not beside 
you ? Does not God watch over us ?” 

With tear-dimmed eyes the beautiful young wife 
raised her face to the husband for whose sake she 
had left her native town of Woerden, in Holland, and 
her beloved home, to share with him joy and sorrow 
in strange lands. Hand in hand they stood in silence 
awhile, watching the glowing red spot in the veil of 
mist. Here and there, afar on the horizon, where the 
atmosphere was clearer, could be discerned a thin dark 
line, resembling more, however, a layer of fog than a 
streak of land. 

During the voyage of nearly three months with what 
longing had the young wife looked forward to the 
destination that seemed so remote ! More than once, 
indeed, had she commended her soul to God, believing 
her last hour near; and after so much sorrow and 
deprivation to find herself to-day rescued from all 
dangers of the sea! Fate was almost too kind — but 
more and more the dark streak loomed up from the 
brightening horizon, and in less than two hours the 
“Hurrah !” of the sailors was heard, announcing land. 


A Tale of the Pequot War. 


9 


With fervent gratitude all the passengers fell on 
their knees, giving praise to the Almighty for His 
guidance. 

And later how great was the enthusiasm of these 
much tried seafarers as they stepped upon terra firma 
on their arrival at Boston! 

But what is this impressive group of dignitaries 
coming forward to greet our travellers? 

With solemn mien, and dressed in the sober fash- 
ion of a ruler of the period, a man of middle age 
walked directly up to Lieutenant Gardiner. 

“Welcome, Lion Gardiner! We bid you both 
welcome, you and your faithful spouse. In the name 
of our beloved city of Boston, I greet you and return 
thanks to you for coming hither. Allow me to pre- 
sent to you these esteemed persons, my countrymen, 
and the worthy rulers and councillors of this town.” 
It was John Winthrop, Sr., Governor of Massachu- 
setts Colony, who thus met Gardiner so cordially. 
Meantime John Winthrop, Jr., the governor’s son, 
approached Mary Gardiner to bid her welcome. The 
young man had a most winning and chivalrous manner 
that might have been acquired at the court of Charles I. 
Doffing his plumed hat, he said : “God greet you, noble 
lady! May I be the first in America to offer you 
hospitality. Rest you should need right sore after 


io A Tale of the Pequot War. 

your long, stormy voyage; therefore, allow me to 
accompany you and your husband to the quarters pre- 
pared for you.” The young officer gallantly took the 
lady’s hand in English fashion, and having been joined 
by Gardiner, left the procession on the wharf, to escort 
his guests to their lodging-place. Here, though every- 
thing was simplicity itself, to the tired voyagers it 
seemed palatial and luxurious; but nothing in com- 
parison to the joy of feeling the ground under their 
feet. 

The following misty October morning found the 
young wife refreshed and cheerful; her blue eyes 
beamed as if the fairest sunshine were mirrored in 
them. 

“My dear, brave wife, you are now yourself again. 
Let us trust in God and with fortitude look forward 
to the days that await us here. The reception given 
us yesterday,” continued Gardiner, “appeared to me 
not unworthy of our sacrifice. The Lords Say and 
Sele and Brooke shall have reason to be satisfied with 
us should they be pleased to follow us hither. I 
leave you now, dear heart, with the faithful Colet, as 
the gentlemen are waiting to confer with me.” 

After the Lieutenant had summoned Colet the maid 
and tenderly parted from his wife he called on the 
governor. 


A Tale of the Pequot War. n 

There, notwithstanding the early hour of the morn- 
ing, he found assembled all the prominent citizens 
whom he had met the day before, and, the customary 
greetings over, they immediately began negotiations. 

“According to the information furnished by Mr. 
John Winthrop, we understand that you have received 
a commission to construct dwellings and fortifications 
for the establishment of a plantation at the mouth of 
the Connecticut River. In fact three hundred capa- 
ble men have been promised you, some as laborers, 
others to garrison the fort when built. Is it not so, 
Mr. Gardiner?” 

With these words Thomas Dudley opened the 
business discussion. 

“You have been correctly informed, gentlemen, and 
further be it known that I, as an engineer, am com- 
missioned by the Earl of Warwick, the Lords Say and 
Sele and Brooke, and those who are members of the 
New England Company to promote the building of 
these fortifications. Moreover, I have been promised 
all necessary means and funds for the execution of 
the same. I would wish, however, to give my young 
wife some repose before setting out on the road to 
Connecticut, but after three days, if it please you, Mr. 
Winthrop, we shall be ready to follow you to the 
chosen locality.” 


12 


A Tale of the Pequot War. 


In concluding this speech, the Lieutenant had 
turned to the dignified young man whose acquaintance 
we made yesterday. Thomas Dudley interposed, how- 
ever, before he could frame an answer. 

“Pardon me, one more question. Would you be 
willing to place your knowledge at the service of our 
town should you be given the authority and means to 
continue the construction of Fort Hill? In order to 
complete it properly, we have long and patiently 
awaited the advent of an experienced architect. As 
Master of Works of Fortifications you have already 
distinguished yourself in Holland and England. 
Hence the city would deem herself fortunate could she 
win your counsel and assistance.” 

“I should be most happy to do what is in my power,” 
replied Gardiner, “but dare not delay too long the 
journey to Connecticut, for I should be at my post 
before the severe winter sets in. My orders, you 
know, are to build a fort at the mouth of the Connect- 
icut River.” 

“That you can and shall do, but ere you take your 
young wife into the wilderness, permit me to have 
erected a dwelling where such a noble lady may be 
protected from the rigor of the climate. Allow me, 
with my men, to go first to the river’s mouth, and 
make these preparations, while you, in the meantime, 


A Tale of the Pequot War. 13 

shall remain here and dedicate your valuable services 
to our town.” 

“So be it!” they cried, waiving all objections from 
Boston’s ruler. 

Thus it was settled, not only to the satisfaction of 
the people of Boston, but also to that of Mistress Gar- 
diner, who anticipated with pleasure a longer respite 
from hardship and days of quiet enjoyment in the 
dear companionship of her husband. 

The good ladies of Boston had many an opportunity 
to prove their sociability by a word of friendly advice 
to the young wife on the subject of housekeeping, and 
so the weeks passed very swiftly. Winter had already 
sent its forerunners: frost and snow, and seemed to 
urge the necessity of a speedy departure. Gardiner, 
a few days since, had finished the work for which 
the eternal gratitude and favor of the city fathers 
were assured him. John Winthrop, Jr., also, had 
despatched a messenger announcing the blockhouse 
to be in readiness. Therefore, there was no excuse 
for procrastination and Gardiner, in duty bound, 
and by the terms of the contract felt that now 
he should proceed to his post. Moreover, to longer 
hesitate would make the journey to Connecticut well 
nigh impracticable. 

So our travellers left the spot that had won 


14 A Tale of the Pequot War. 

their affection and passed out to the inhospitable 
wilderness. 

A difficult journey of more than ten days’ duration, 
with an escort of perhaps ten or twelve men, brought 
the young couple to the place of their destination. 

Desolate enough they found the river’s mouth to 
which they had been led through leafless woods and 
dangerous swamps! Over the dull landscape hung 
threatening clouds when the young wife entered her 
future home. 

A homesick feeling oppressed her, like a weight on 
the usually careless heart, but summoning all her 
courage and firmly grasping her husband’s hand, 
Mary smiled kindly, as her glance met that of a young 
man standing on the threshold to welcome the wan- 
derers. The house appeared more cheerful within, 
owing to the presence of a bright fire burning in the 
chimney. 

Built of rude logs the construction boasted of no 
upper story, consisting merely of three good-sized 
rooms. One entered a vestibule, which was also the 
kitchen, on the right opening into the sleeping-room, 
while on the left hand was a large vacant space and 
a door furnished only with an inside latch. Three 
diminutive windows imperfectly lighted the interior 
and here the provisions and weapons were to be 
stored. 


A Tale of the Pequot War. 15 

A high stockade surrounded the house, which stood 
on a slight eminence near the mouth of the river. 

On one side the country appeared rather level and 
might well be adapted to the cultivation of grain and 
Indian corn. 

Bushes and clumps of trees interspersed the wide 
valley, or plain, that in the distance seemed to lose 
itself in swamps and forests. 

On the other side was a more extended view over 
Long Island Sound and the numerous islets that rose 
from its surface like lost worlds. 

Well might the spring and summer be lovely here, 
but, for the young woman who stood meditating at the 
door of the blockhouse, the dark November day that 
had enveloped everything in a gray mist was any- 
thing but conducive to serenity of mind. 

In this solitude, far from any human habitation, 
what dire disaster might the winter not hold in store 
for them? What dangers even now might be await- 
ing herself and her husband ? Had not the women of 
Boston told her of the Pequots, considered in every 
way to be dreaded as a formidable tribe of Indians 
inhabiting Connecticut ? 

“O Lord ! Bless our coming and be near us at all 
times with Thy succor!” she whispered, folding her 
hands and looking up to the Father above the clouds. 

At that instant Gardiner’s voice, calling her name, 


16 A Tale of the Pequot War. 

sounded cheerily in her ear, and, drying the tears 
that had slowly begun to steal down her cheeks, Mary 
hastened into the house to share the meal prepared by 
the faithful Colet. 

In the light of the bright, crackling fire and with 
the animated conversation of the men, came renewed 
zest of life, and a sense of courage returned to the 
young woman, who had made a secret vow never to be 
disheartened, but to stand ever brave and cheerful at 
her husband’s side. 

Frequently and with difficulty during the ensuing 
months was this vow put to the proof, for the winter 
having set in unusually severe, day and night around 
the blockhouse was heard a weird concert of raging 
winds often mingled with the howling of wolves. 

Not seldom, indeed, was added the wild war-cry of 
Indians, striking a final note of terror to the hearts of 
the two women in their isolated situation. And when 
winds were silent and no sound came from throat of 
man or beast, then from the shore, in the winter still- 
ness rose the rhythm of breaking waves, that never- 
ceasing music of the sea. It was also the first lullaby 
of the little one that lay in the cradle, soon after 
Christmas, to the delight of his parents. 

Now the young mother was no longer lonely when 
her husband went forth into the wilderness in his 


A Tale of the Pequot War. 17 

search for fish and game, not the lesser evil attending 
the cruel winter being the dearth of provisions, the 
need of daily food. 

When Gardiner and his wife sailed for America, 
it was with the understanding that the company of 
noblemen who organized the enterprise would provide 
soldiers, funds and generous supplies. 

More than six months had now elapsed since his 
departure, and, as yet, no news had come from 
England. Deprived of all social intercourse during the 
hard winter, well might any feminine heart have 
quailed — but since Mary Gardiner had a beautiful boy 
to hold in her arms, a firm, unflinching confidence in 
God, a blissful calm possessed her — so that even her 
husband looked upon her with wonder. Whenever the 
strong man felt an anxious solicitude for the future 
he only needed to gaze into his faithful wife’s beaming 
eyes and the old self-reliance returned. 

However, in life, hard times as well as happy days 
come to an end, so that first winter passed away, and 
the mild season brought relief to the little colony 
though the promised ships from England had not 
arrived. 

Gardiner, with his few men, could proceed but 
slowly with the building of the fort, which was the 
more difficult as the first consideration had of neces- 


1 8 A Tale of the Pequot War. 

sity to be the providing of daily sustenance. This 
meant to clear the land, and to cultivate fields, so that 
corn-meal might not be wanting in the winter. 

The summer produced a good harvest and another 
winter with its ice and snow followed, cutting off 
Saybrook from all communication with the outside 
world. The winter, however, was pleasanter now in 
the homelike blockhouse, for the lovely child-face of 
little David appeared to his father and mother like 
the ever present spirit of Spring. After twelve 
months the charming infant had blossomed into a 
splendid, sturdy boy filling the whole house with sun- 
shine. Dull care and all sadness were quite driven 
away by the gay child-prattle. 

Yet in reality the situation at Saybrook had become 
more serious, evil deeds having been committed in the 
neighborhood by the notorious Pequot Indians, bitter 
enemies of the white people — but also in constant war- 
fare with other Indian tribes. 

A third winter had passed and the persevering Gar- 
diner continued patiently at his post, though the 
equipment for Saybrook Fort had not been forwarded. 

Instead, however, one day there appeared at the 
blockhouse an agreeable visitor in the person of John 
Winthrop, Jr. A warm welcome he received, Mary 
producing the most precious dainties from her store- 
room to make the entertainment festive. After three 


A Tale of the Pequot War. 


19 


long years to be able finally to offer hospitality to an 
agreeable guest — a friend, — that was joy indeed! 

When the gay meal was over, however, the two men 
became engaged in earnest conversation. 

John Winthrop brought information that the Boston 
people had at last come to a decision regarding the 
Pequots. They intended fighting the Indians to the 
death in punishment for dastardly deeds and the many 
crimes committed. 

“Therefore, be vigilant and work day and night on 
the fortifications, as you have been commanded 
through me, by the Commissioners in Boston, for an 
exceedingly bitter war is to be waged. You are 
aware, I believe, of the reputation the wild Pequots 
have for cruelty and cunning ?” added Winthrop in 
closing his report. 

“Then tell the gentlemen from me that they do 
wrong to stir up the wasps about our ears, here, in 
this solitude, away from all auxiliary troops. You, 
in the security of your town walls, may think war an 
easy thing, but for us, who scarcely possess the necesj 
saries of life, it would bring a multitude of dangers of 
every description. Starvation might become our worst 
enemy. What could we do if the redskins destroyed 
our crops? Therefore, Your Excellency, methinks we 
might better leave the strengthening of the fort and 
first look to the proper provisioning of the house !” — 


20 


A Tale of the Pequot War. 


Gardiner had raised his voice excitedly at the conclu- 
sion of his speech. 

“God grant that you may have no reason to regret 
rejecting my advice. Here you are in the midst of 
hostile factions, and Saybrook may see many a redskin 
before her stockade in the course of the next few 
weeks. So, once more, I warn you, be on your 
guard !” 

The men had become so animated in their conversa- 
tion that they had not heard the heavy door of the 
room open. As Winthrop uttered the last words, 
Mary crossed the threshold. 

“Why must we be on our guard, Lion ? What does 
Mr. Winthrop mean?” and fixing her large question- 
ing eyes on the visitor, — rather disconcerted at this 
sudden interruption, — she repeated the words, demand- 
ing of Winthrop an explanation, which he appeared to 
give unwillingly. 

“Assist me, dear lady, and beg your husband not to 
turn a deaf ear to my counsel. Believe that I have at 
heart the welfare of Saybrook and her inhabitants. 
Convince yourselves of the necessity of diligently 
carrying on the work of fortification, thus to encoun- 
ter successfully the numerous foes.” 

“Foes, what foes? Do speak, Lion, and tell me 
everything !” implored Mary. 


A Tale of the Pequot War. 21 

“Well, then listen, but do not despair. It has 
pleased the gentlemen in Boston to declare war against 
the Pequots — and just think, we shall have to help 
them kill the wasps that they have so wantonly scared 
up from their nests. But, I say that we have 
remained here, almost forgotten and forsaken, for 
more than three years, and might easily have fallen a 
prey to another dreadful foe — that is starvation — with- 
out the people of Boston lifting a finger to help us. 
No indeed! we must first lay up our winter stores 
before we can think of preparing for war !” 

“How many are you in Saybrook?” asked Winthrop, 
interrupting the excited discourse of the speaker. 

“Twenty-one men, two women and my little son,” 
was Gardiner’s reply. 

“My child, my dear, only son!” — this from the lips 
of the young mother with pathos and tender solicitude. 
“O Lord, protect our child from the cruel Indians! 
Consider how perilous is our situation — how hard our 
life in this solitude. I will suffer uncomplainingly — 
courageously bear every privation if only no harm 
come near my darling — my little David !” 

The two men looked with emotion upon the noble 
woman whose features expressed alternately love and 
anxiety. 

“Mamma, dear Mamma ! where are you ?” sounded a 


22 A Tale of the Pequot War. 

sweet infantile voice and at the same moment the form 
of a child of three years presented itself in the dark 
doorway. 

“Make haste, Mamma ! Come and play with Davy ! 
He wants to build a fort.” 

“Listen to your son! He knows what is the right 
thing to do! The little rogue intends to become a 
future engineer ! Come here, youngster, and look at 
me — I want to build a fort too, but your father doesn’t 
wish it. You tell him to do it, and then perhaps he 
will.” 

The boy listened to Winthrop’s words with wide- 
open wondering eyes and without a trace of shyness. 
Then, turning to his father: “Why don’t you want 
to, Papa ? Please, please do it. Davy will help you !” 

“Will you really, little man? We are not afraid 
of any redskins, are we?” 

It was indeed an attractive child that the proud 
father smilingly raised aloft. The little one had dark 
brown locks, and his blue eyes sparkled as he shouted 
for joy and then ran to his mother. The two men 
silently clasped hands and a pact of friendship in this 
warm pressure was mutually exchanged. 

Then Winthrop, laying his hand on his heart, said 
with conviction, bowing at the same time to Mary: 
“Your fine boy shall remain here in safety so long as 


A Tale of the Pequot War. 


23 


my voice has a hearing in Boston. If I can influence 
the gentlemen I will persuade them to leave the 
Pequots unpunished for their shameful deeds. How 
well I may succeed, God alone knows !” 

“If only the harvest were over, then might they 
attack us, the rascals ! We should so receive them 
that their return would be an impossibility,” said 
Gardiner, good-humoredly. When Mary heard her 
husband speak with such assurance and looked into 
his triumphant eyes, she embraced her boy and holding 
out her hand to Lion said : “I will have confidence in 
God, and in you, you dear man! And may Your 
Excellency,” she continued, turning to Winthrop, “be 
pleased to accept our warmest thanks for your pro- 
tection and kind intercession. But, now Davy, we 
must not longer disturb Father and his guest. Come, 
let us go,” and mother and son gaily left the room. 

Soon afterwards from the front of the house came 
peals of sweet childish laughter now and again 
mingled with sonorous tones that sounded as light- 
hearted as though no anxiety had threatened the 
young woman’s peace of mind. 

On the following day when the guest took his depar- 
ture it was with renewed expressions of friendship 
and the promise that he would be mindful to intercede 
for the Lieutenant with the authorities in Boston. 


24 


A Tale of the Pequot War. 


Gardiner, on his part, true to his secret compact, 
began, at once, with his men, to fortify the place. 

The damaged stockade was repaired, the weapons 
put in order, ammunition prepared, and the few cannon 
that the stronghold possessed underwent a thorough 
inspection. Some of the men also worked in the fields, 
harvesting the precious grain. Even Mrs. Gardiner 
and Colet, the faithful maid, had as much as they 
could do, for the garden and cow-barn belonged to 
their department. Fodder must be found for the 
three cows, otherwise what might become of Davy, 
should the supply of milk fail? But heaven seemed 
to favor the inhabitants of Saybrook, — weeks passed 
without a single redskin showing himself. 

“The Governor has kept his word and prevented 
an attack. One more field to harvest, our best and 
largest, and the crops will be safely gathered in. 

If the sun will only shine as warm for three days 
longer the Hill Acre can be mown; and then — then 
the Pequot rascals may come or not ; we shall be ready 
for them!” Gardiner looked at his wife and smiled 
gleefully. 

It appeared as though a loving God had endowed 
the sun with increased power, so great was the heat 
of its dazzling rays that shone down on field and 
meadow. The atmosphere resembled a flood of light 


A Tale of the Pequot War. 


2 5 


and perfume that lay like a fine pale gray veil spread 
over the land, and “Heaven’s own blue” seemed to 
have descended to the sea that looked like a gigantic 
liquified sapphire, gaining in depth of color whenever 
the white wings of a gull were outlined against it. 

With the exception of the humming and chirping of 
insects no sound could be heard in this sunny land- 
scape — not a breath of air stirred the beeches on the 
top of a hill where several sun-browned men at noon 
lay reposing in the shade. 

“Hearken, Dick; I really believe you’re asleep! 
Bestir yourself and remember that a good portion of 
the field still awaits you. What a cuckoo you are! 
Do you intend to make us cut your share? Really 
Morton, you shouldn’t allow it. Dick has scarcely 
done anything this morning except act like a drone in 
the hive. Not that I grudge the young fellow his 
amusement. Heaven knows it does my heart good 
just to look into his sweet face, but — ” 

“Ha, that’s enough, old grumbler!” retorted Dick, 
interrupting blustering Tom, who was for all that 
a good-natured person. “What’s the use of hurry- 
ing so with Hill Acre; it’s our last field. The master 
seems to be forcing matters. As for me, I don’t 
believe in these Indians that you people are always 
whispering about. Indeed, I should like to see them !” 


26 


A Tale of the Pequot War. 


“Don't speak so foolishly, Dick. What do you 
know of the Pequots? You may get a good scare 
yet, my fine fellow! Those beads are sufficient evi- 
dence that redskins have been prowling about. They 
may have been Pequots who lost the same, though I 
couldn’t swear to it. Lieutenant Gardiner can do as 
he likes and is only the more prudent for gathering in 
the harvest, so instead of chattering let’s get to work 
that the master may not find us idle.” 

Lion had taken seriously into consideration Mor- 
ton’s report of the finding of beads, and anxious 
concern oppressed his brave heart. To Mary, how- 
ever, he did not make known his trouble, but ordered 
Colet to keep the doors locked, and the house as quiet 
as possible. 

That afternoon the intense heat had constrained the 
occupants of Saybrook Fort to seek the shade, and 
this was only to be found on the side toward the 
water — and here a cool breeze made the place that 
Mrs. Gardiner and her son selected most agreeable. 

It was a charming picture — the youthful mother 
with the sturdy little boy playing beside her, and lying 
before them a big, shaggy dog, apparently asleep, but 
betraying his watchfulness by an occasional blinking 
of the intelligent eyes. 

“Look, Mamma, isn’t my fort beautiful? Oh, if 


A Tale of the Pequot War. 


27 


Papa were only here! You don’t understand it as 
well as he, and you don’t seem to enjoy yourself with 
me to-day. Please, please let me have the lid ; I want 
it to make a roof.” And little David had his wish, for 
Mary felt that her boy was right to complain of her 
indifference. Since early morning she had felt a 
depression of spirits that she was unable to account 
for, her disposition being naturally cheerful. The 
presentiment of danger could be banished neither by 
reason nor the better remedy — prayer. Her husband’s 
face had worn a sad expression when he left her at 
noon-time, and though he smiled kindly and answered 
reassuringly when she asked him the cause — still the 
premonition of impending evil remained with her. 
Yet what had she to fear? Were not most of the 
men at work in the armory; were they not all expe- 
rienced and faithful men ; and was it not peaceful and 
quiet in the neighborhood ? Mary tried, but could find 
absolutely nothing to justify her anxious restlessness. 
She began to realize this, and rising, a smile swept 
over her previously serious features as she glanced at 
the boy, so absorbed in his play. 

“Now, darling,” she said, “Mamma is going in to 
prepare something nice to eat. Go on building your 
fort ; work fast, and I think Papa will soon be here.” 

Another and still another glance did the mother 


28 A Tale of the Pequot War. 

send back to her heart’s delight before disappearing 
through the frame of the massive house-door, resign- 
ing David to the care of the faithful “Amigo.” 

An hour may have passed and already the sun’s red 
ball is nearing the horizon line, transforming the blue 
water into a mass of liquid gold, and the atmosphere 
that had been so dry begins to exhale the moisture 
often preceding the dusk of especially brilliant days. 

A few minutes more and the fiery disk will have 
dipped into the unfathomable depths to rise again on 
the morrow new-born from its watery grave. 

The calm and peace of the day’s decline lie over 
field and forest; by degrees Saybrook with its sur- 
roundings are enveloped in the gray of evening. 

Suddenly a loud cry of terror breaks the silence: 

“David ! David ! Where are you, my darling ? Oh ! 
do answer your mother.” 

At the sound of her mistress’ voice raised in 
alarm, Colet rushes out of the house, and both are 
horrified to find the gate of the stockade wide open. 

“Oh, Mistress, what has happened? Has David — ? 
Come, let us find Nicholas and James. They will 
surely know about the child.” 

This hope, however, proved vain; — no trace of the 
little boy could be seen about Saybrook — and conster- 
nation reigned supreme. 


A Tale of the Pequot War. 29 

Meanwhile the reapers returned, Gardiner at their 
head. 

Mary flew to her husband. — “Have you brought 
David? Have you found him?” came anxiously 
from her lips. 

“David! and you ask if I have found him? 
Why, is the child not here? Speak, for heaven’s 
sake!” Gardiner had turned to Colet, for his wife 
hung half-fainting on his neck. 

“The mistress found the gate open when she came 
out of the house to take in the little boy a few minutes 
ago. I ran out when she called — and the men have 
helped us to look for him everywhere. David has 
gone! Oh! Master, what shall we do?” 

“First take your mistress indoors and try to revive 
her. Mary, my dearest wife, keep up your courage. 
Be brave! Hope in God and trust me!” 

Mute, with the inconsolable look of one in despair, 
the young mother shook her head as she murmured: 
“Oh! my presentiment! Oh! my sweet boy!” 

“Where is the dog? Where is the trusty Amigo?” 
inquired Gardiner of those standing by. 

Where, indeed, was Amigo? Neither he nor the 
child were in the house, or its enclosure, and doubtless 
both had gone off together. 

“Courage, Mary! David will be found, with the 


30 A Tale of the Pequot War. 

aid of Amigo. You know how the intelligent animal 
responds to the slightest call — and I shall rest neither 
night nor day until your son is again in your arms. 
So, now to work ! Morton only shall accompany me ; 
the others must remain here. Keep your eyes and ears 
open. Woe to whoever forsakes his post on any 
consideration !” 

The last words were directed to those persons who 
were standing about in respectful silence, all without 
exception being more or less well-trained soldiers. 

The order was given with unusual sternness, and 
with good reason, for Gardiner was only too well 
aware of the warlike disposition of his men, having 
already that morning seen many an eye gleam omi- 
nously when Morton brought the information that he 
had discovered traces of Indians. 

There was danger at hand, grave danger, of that 
Gardiner was certain, but in neither a word nor a 
look did he betray this to his people. 

With what horror had the thought occurred to the 
brave commander that his little boy might have fallen 
into the hands of the sanguinary Pequots! But no 
one should imagine such a possibility — least of all, 
Mary. 

In silence, the Lieutenant strode forth into the 
descending darkness with Morton, who required no 


A Tale of the Pequot War. 31 

hint as to the need of the greatest circumspection. He 
doubted no less than his master the uncanny proximity 
of the formidable Pequots. 

A low whistle that now and then interrupted the 
stillness might as easily have been taken for the entic- 
ing call of a bird as a sound uttered by human lips. 
The two searchers had already covered a considerable 
tract of land and not the most insignificant bush 
escaped their observation — nor did the slightest rustle 
break the silence of the night without causing them to 
halt as if at a word of command. But, in vain! for 
nothing, at the smallest excuse for a pause, invited 
either eye or ear to a happy termination of their quest. 
They had calculated on something beyond Amigo’s 
sagacity. The faithful dog must have been far away 
or he would have answered his master’s whistle. 

In unspeakable anguish of mind — filled with inde- 
scribably painful thoughts, Mary, meanwhile, awaited 
her husband’s return. She gazed in dumb despair at 
the evening sky where sparkled innumerable jewels — 
and though her lips, at intervals, murmured prayers, 
the tumultuous heaving of the mother’s heart pre- 
vented her receiving any strength from on high. 
Grief and despondency had taken possession of Mary’s 
cheerful disposition and left no room for a solemn 
believing prayer to the Father above the stars. 


3 2 


A Tale of the Pequot War. 


When Gardiner re-entered his home in the gray of 
dawn, he found not the grief of a mother in deep 
sorrow, for in Mary’s dry eyes spoke the stony look 
of utter hopelessness. 

He sought unsuccessfully to awaken, in her mater- 
nal bosom, the remotest expectation of a happy result 
to further search. It seemed as if no ray of comfort 
could penetrate the night of this despair. 

Sighing, discouraged, Lion gave up the attempt to 
console his wife. 

The bright light of day, however, revealed the 
strong man bowed, but not prostrated with grief. 
He was still hopeful, and this brought out all his 
energy. 

Every precautionary measure against a sudden inva- 
sion of Indians having been taken, Gardiner once more 
started out accompanied by Morton. But again they 
returned unsuccessful, not having been able to dis- 
cover the least trace of the boy or of Amigo. 

The greatest affliction weighed upon the spirits of 
all, but instead of having a tendency to curb the valor 
of the garrison it gave rise to an unmistakable thirst 
for war. 

It seemed as though every man in Saybrook burned 
to met the foe, and the stern and absolute authority 


A Tale of the Pequot War. 


33 


of its commander was required to keep the people 
within the narrow limits of the fort. 

Now it was necessary to perform the duties of a 
soldier and to remain steadfast at a post! On the 
shoulders of no one but the grief -stricken Lieutenant 
could this burden lie heavier. 


3 


CHAPTER III. 


High among the tree-tops a gentle whispering 
began ! The beeches and firs seemed to nod a dreamy 
answer to the call, but not a bird stirred among the 
lower branches, still wrapped in darkness and silence. 

However, if one directed a glance toward the open- 
ing of the wood, one could distinctly perceive a rosy 
gleam, gradually deepening in color. It was the 
messenger of light, publishing the wonder of a new 
day, for again had his power subdued the night and its 
terrors. Deeper and stronger glowed the light until 
the victorious sun, throwing aside his gay mantle, 
appeared in the perfection of his splendor and glory. 

With increasing power the god of light sent his 
sparkling shafts into the depths of the wood, distribut- 
ing warmth and vitality all about. A shimmer of 
gold was shed on the leaves of the trees as they 
quivered in the morning breeze, — while from the 
throat of feathered songsters were lifted, as it were, 
jubilant notes of praise and thanksgiving. Further 
down among massive tree-trunks, waking the beetles 
and butterflies from their indolent sleep — hastened 
the merry sunbeams — then they played a little lower — 
now they dance upon the grass. 

“Awake! awake! Daisy and Bluebell, it is time to 


A Tale of the Pequot War . 35 

arouse yourselves !” Drowsily Bluebell nods her 
dainty head and Daisy opens wide her golden eye that 
glistens with dew; both flowers responding gratefully 
to the invigorating rays. 

These two little wild flowers are blooming apart in 
the woods’ deep shade. Beyond, scores of their sisters 
for some time have swayed in the bright sunshine of 
the open meadow, but just here it is rather dark, where 
a giant fir-tree drops its branches almost on the 
ground, and into this nook the sunbeams must have 
taken particular pains to carry a morning greeting. 
And what have they found in hiding? A child’s 
face — pink and white — nestled close to the swarthy 
countenance of an Indian girl ! 

How sweetly the little one rests in her lap ! She is 
leaning, fast asleep, against the tree-trunk, with one 
hand placed protectingly on the child’s curly head. 

The sunbeams peep inquisitively at the sleeping 
children, playing discreetly about their feet, when 
suddenly a right forward, presumptuous fellow, 
dancing higher and higher, can no longer resist kiss- 
ing the cheek of the fair boy. It scarcely was a 
crime, indeed! However, the blithely radiant shaft 
now touches the long velvety eyelashes, but, chidden 
by his comrades, he hastily retreats. Too late! The 
closed curtains are immediately raised, and a glance 


36 A Tale of the Pequot War. 

like that of the smiling blue sky meets the lurking 
sunbeams. With one accord they all spring forward, 
and the beautiful child, aroused, lifts his head with 
curiosity. 

But what now ? The sky becomes overcast and the 
small mouth is drawn down as if a thunder storm 
threatens. It breaks forth with the cry, half-stifled 
by sobs: “Mamma, Mamma! Davy wants his dear, 
dear mamma!” and a copious rain of tears obscures 
the blue eyes. 

The Indian girl’s arms are around the boy, and 
clasping him closer, she endeavors to soothe him with 
caresses and tender words that do not fail to have 
their effect. 

There is, at hand, also another comforter in the 
shape of a beautiful, rough-haired dog that until now 
had been lying on the grass near by. He comes for- 
ward and rubs his head against the child, wagging his 
tail and offering consolation to the best of his canine 
ability. 

“Davy has been dreaming again,” murmurs the 
twelve-year old Indian girl. “Doesn’t Davy know 
that Momone* loves him and that his mamma is look- 
ing for him and will find him ?” 

Again and again with similar expressions of affec- 


* Pronounced Mo-mo-ne. 


A Tale of the Pequot War. 


37 


tion she succeeds in calming the little paleface so that 
he once more falls asleep and the more restfully since 
the sunbeams, with praiseworthy modesty, have some- 
what withdrawn from the place. 

Yes, it is our dear little David whom we find again 
in such strange surroundings. 

Alas ! what has not the poor child been obliged to 
go through since we last saw him playing with his 
fort! 

Soon after his mother left him, the diminutive fort 
was finished. It was quite complete with numerous 
loopholes and enclosing stockade. However, the 
child’s interest in his plaything, from that moment, 
ceased. 

Suddenly his attention was attracted by a bright- 
hued bird that flew from the roof of the house to the 
ground and hopped about, perking its gay little head 
from side to side, and picking up here and there the 
crumbs that remained from David’s afternoon 
luncheon. 

The tiny creature seemed absolutely fearless and 
permitted the delighted boy to come quite close. His 
arms were outstretched to seize it, when, — quickly it 
spread its wings, alighting on the top of the palisade, 
and looked saucily down from this safe retreat. 
Cautiously and with difficulty David dragged a chair 


38 


A Tale of the Pequot War. 


to the place and climbed up, but not before the airy, 
feathered thing with an alluring tweedle dee had 
flown away. Then David peeped through a crack in 
the palings ; saw nothing of the fugitive ; but saw the 
bolt, which otherwise would have been out of reach, — 
and immediately exerting all his strength upon it, the 
gate flew open! 

A cool breeze entered and fanned the boy's heated 
face — fluttering leaves of birch-trees seemed to call 
and beckon — still more did flower and butterfly invite 
his eager grasp. Slipping out through the gateway 
he hastened from bush to bush, forgetting all else save 
the desire to capture each bright-winged insect. 

The guarded neighborhood of the blockhouse had 
long since been left behind when he finally became 
aware that his tired little legs would carry him no 
further. To what a pleasant resting-place the grass of 
the forest invited, — soft and shining in the afternoon 
sunlight! Worn out the young butterfly hunter sat 
himself ddwn under a tree — and fell asleep. 

When David awoke the sun no longer shone — but 
the moon was casting her white light upon the dark- 
some earth. It seemed to the boy as though he was 
in his father’s boat, tossed on the water. But no 
waves were rocking the little one. He was being hur- 


A Tale of the Peqaot War. 


39 


ried along on horseback beneath the shade of trees and 
cliffs and over wide-stretching table-land. 

He turned his head and looked up to meet a pair 
of gleaming eyes with an evil glance that pierced 
like the fangs of an adder. 

The little heart almost ceased to beat ! 

A cry for help escaped from the child’s pallid lips, — 
instantly silenced by a rough hand laid upon them 
while a smooth hatchet glistened in the air before his 
eyes. Ah ! those were frightful moments, succeeded 
by hours of anguish on that long night’s dreadful ride ! 

Nearly senseless and half-dead the boy hung from 
the galloping horse, and it seemed to him like an awful 
dream — as though he was pursued by many wild 
riders, and as if the earth quaked — then all was still. 

When David again became conscious he found him- 
self lying under a green roof with Amigo beside him, 
licking his face and hands. But oh ! how his tender 
limbs ached; how everything seemed to swim before 
his eyes, and how his head and throat burned ! 

“Water ! drink !” groaned the child ; and as though 
his request had been heard there came a gaily painted 
man with water and poured some of it over the curly 
locks. Oh! how cooling it was! — Then the warrior 
mixed a pale yellow liquid with water in a wooden 


40 


A Tale of the Pequot War. 


cup which he held to David’s lips. The boy eagerly 
swallowed the unsavory draught and languidly closed 
his eyes to sleep. Too short was the rest, for again 
on horseback they went further and further. Three 
times had the stars looked down, speaking to poor 
little David of the angels, when one morning the 
Indians came to a great wide river flowing among high 
fir-covered hills. The rocky cliffs rose from its banks 
so steep that a footing for the horses seemed scarcely 
possible. However, as they made the circuit of a 
boulder they came suddenly upon the opening of a 
valley with meadows, shut in by dark woods. The 
river formed, in its curve, a small basin — and a little 
further on there was a perpendicular rocky wall that 
rose from the very stream itself. 

In this valley the Indians halted, giving a shrill 
whistle that jarred on the clear morning air — a horrid, 
discordant sound. 

The shriek, however, that immediately followed 
seemed rather an answer from evil spirits, for one 
could scarcely believe it possible that human lips could 
utter such tones. 

A moment more and signs of life were visible 
beneath those gloomy trees, and the frightful forms of 
the Pequot Indians came forth. With whoops and 
howls they greeted their returning brethren. 


A Tale of the Pequot War. 41 

Almost dead from exhaustion, little David was 
carried to the tent of the chieftain, who, painted still 
uglier than his warriors, sat enthroned in the midst of 
the camp. 

“Here, Sassagus, is the son of the English paleface 
at Saybrook. We found him asleep in the woods. 

Shall we abandon him and let him be devoured by 
the beasts of the forest — or would you prefer to send 
his scalp to his father in token that the palisade of 
his fort will not prevent our razing it to the ground ?” 

With these words the Pequot seized the brown locks 
of the unconscious boy with the intention of holding 
him up by them, but found himself grasped simultan- 
eously from before and behind. 

Amigo sprang upon the warrior from the rear, 
wdiile a little copper-colored maiden rushed at him in 
front, like a wild-cat, forcing him to release the child. 

“Stop, you little tiger cat — I'll cut the claws from 
your velvet paws !” With that the enraged man 
clutched his tomahawk. 

“Let her alone, Ninicraft ! And you, Momone, how 
dare you enter the warriors' circle? Who called you? 
Get you gone or woe be to you !" 

Heedless, however, the girl embraced the chieftain’s 
knees, begging fawningly for the child. 

“Oh! do give him to Momone. She will keep 


42 A Tale of the Pequot War. 

him for you as a pledge of your revenge. The little 
paleface can open Saybrook to you without the loss of 
an arrow. Let Momone have the boy ! Of what use 
to the great Sachem would be the death of this white 
worm ?” 

The expression of brutal cruelty on the face of 
Sassagus changed to a cunning smile, as, pushing the 
little Indian maid aside with his foot, he said shortly : 

“Well then, Momone, he shall be yours. But woe 
to you, should the boy escape !” 

A world of happiness in her dark eyes, the girl took 
the inanimate child in her arms, and, followed by 
Amigo, retreated into the shadow of the wood. 

There she rubbed the stiff limbs. When the child 
opened his blue eyes his little protectress jumped 
about, beside herself with joy. 

Then she brought him food and drink — talking 
gently in an unknown tongue — and made him a bed 
in the soft moss. With all manner of caresses she 
tried to stay the flow of tears, and the two children 
soon became good friends, though neither understood 
the other’s speech. 

Not a moment did the Indian girl leave her charge, 
who clung to his protectress with passionate love. 
Soon she prepared for herself and David a shelter 
apart from the Pequot encampment. It was with 


A Tale of the Pequot War. 


43 


reluctance that she appeared there, — in the absence 
of Sassagus — as Wianotha, the chieftain’s wife, was 
ill-disposed toward her. Some months before Momone 
had been taken captive by Sassagus on one of his 
warring expeditions. It was evident that the sachem 
was fond of the gentle maiden — treating her more 
like a favorite than a prisoner — so Wianotha pursued 
her with hatred. 

None of the warriors were allowed to molest the 
Forest Bird as she was called by Sassagus — and 
on one occasion when Wianotha attempted to beat 
Momone, he threw the offender with such violence 
to the ground that she lay there unconscious. 

Since then the squaw contented herself with ugly 
glances, and surreptitious cuffs, for only her fear of 
the sachem restrained her from further abuse of the 
little stranger. 

Therefore Momone had good reason to spend the 
greater part of each day alone in the woods, or in the 
meadows, and the coming of little David was to her a 
source of boundless joy. 

Previous to this her only playmates had been the 
birds and squirrels. Now she had something to love 
and to talk to — not only a playmate, but a human being 
under her especial care. 

The little maiden possessed to a great degree that 


44 A Tale of the Pequot War. 

genuine womanly quality of finding pleasure in help- 
ing and serving others. With never ceasing vigilance 
she filled the office of nurse and was plenteously 
rewarded by little David’s devotion to her. 

Necessity and love, humanity’s best teachers, soon 
helped both children to a means of communication — 
enabling them, after a short time, to understand each 
other — and they chattered to their heart’s content. 

In this pleasant intercourse Amigo received his 
requisite share of affection — completing the bond of 
union — his sense of duty as watch leaving nothing to 
be desired. 

And so it fell out, on that morning in question, that 
we found the two under the great fir-tree’s hanging 
boughs, where every day they were sought and 
caressed by the sunbeams, until our little paleface 
appeared almost a tawny Indian boy, so brown had 
become his brow and cheeks. 

Could Mary at this time have seen her little son, 
how she would have rejoiced over his look of health 
and vigor ! 

David, of course, often thought longingly of his 
dear, sweet mother, but he believed his energetic 
young protectress when every day she said: 1 “David 
will grow big and strong, — then he will seek his 
mamma and find her.” 


A Tale of the Pequot War. 45 

Thus with abundance of sunshine and tender care 
the child had gained rapidly in health and strength. 
Indeed his courage and good sense might have put to 
shame many an older boy. His intimacy with nature 
made him fearless — even though Momone by chance 
was not beside him — and he dreaded not the wild 
beasts of the forest, darkness, nor raging storms. 
The faithful Amigo, however, never forsook his 
young master, either by night or by day, and shared 
the charge with the Indian girl. 

So long as the sun smiled on the pair, so long as 
nights were mild and stars shone brightly in the fra- 
grant woodland, they led a charmed life — but what 
would become of the two forsaken children when the 
cold mists and bitter frosts of Winter made their 
appearance ? 

Winter’s cold and man’s hatred hold many a menac- 
ing danger, — but neither Momone nor David thought 
to forestall events — they were happy in congenial 
companionship all the livelong summer day. And 
why should they not be carefree and contented ? 
Though unconscious of it, they felt secure in the 
Almighty Father’s hand, protected by the angels that 
unseen, unasked, and often unthanked, watch so faith- 
fully over the children of men. 


46 


A Tale of the Pequot War. 


In the meantime quiet prevailed in the Pequot 
camp, as almost all the warriors had been for weeks 
on a great war trail. For this reason the children 
kept themselves more than ever aloof from their adver- 
saries. Only a very old warrior, to whose guardian- 
ship they had been given over by Sassagus, was 
acquainted with their secluded abode, and this he 
furnished from time to time with food. 

How securely they dwelt in the little rocky recess ! 
Momone had dragged in moss and leaves and was 
untiring in the invention of small comforts for her 
pet. Every day she was contriving and arranging 
things. She soon had a cosy seat made of moss. 
Then she made a swing or hammock out of a natural 
network of vines — again she was braiding rushes and 
colored grasses for dainty mats to cover their couches 
or to lay on the rocky floor. Through her David 
became familiar with the birds. She showed him how 
to recognize the different varieties — and their manner 
of building their nests. The clever little teacher 
pointed out to him, at night, the roads travelled by 
the stars, and the listening boy delighted in stories of 
the spirits of mighty warriors, slain in battle, who, 
when the moon is full, have their war-dance in the 
milky way. 

David liked best of all to hear of the rainbow that 


A Tale of the Pequot War. 


47 


owed its brilliant hues to the wild flowers of wood 
and field — flowers that had faded and died on earth to 
blossom and glow anew in the sky. 

Little Momone’s head was filled with these tales 
and David never grew tired of hearing nor his teacher 
weary of relating them. 

This was the creed and the poetry of their exist- 
ence — and thus the two children sat together by the 
hour ! 

Before their hiding place of an evening, when the 
glowworms, like wandering lights, festively adorned 
the grass and bushes; beside the river’s bank, where 
the rippling waves sang a sweet, monotonous melody ; 
upon the level, flowery uplands; beneath a fir-tree’s 
mournfully drooping branches, while the wind in its 
top was chanting a dirge; wherever, in fact, it might 
be, there was the boy listening eagerly, with wide 
open eyes, to Momone’s wondrous tales! 

But it was not only in the land of fairy fancy that 
the Indian maid was wont to lead the little paleface, 
she could also instruct him in the practical things of 
life. 

One day they would go fishing in a diminutive lake ; 
another day it would be a hunt for feathered game 
— in which sport Momone was quite expert — making 
a bow that no hunter need be ashamed of. The flex- 


48 . 


A Tale of the Pequot War. 


ible branch of a young ash-tree, soaked in water, was 
used for the bow, and the string was a strip of hide 
from a slain beast. Arrows she fashioned from the 
hard wood of the oak, and a raven’s tail feathers gave 
steadiness and swiftness to the death-dealing weapon. 

Thus was alternated play and work, rest and 
activity, alike beneficial to mind and body, — David’s 
strength increasing with this simple life in communion 
with nature. 

One evening the children stood before their shel- 
tered nook, hand in hand, silently watching the moon 
rise over the hills on the opposite side of the river 
until the lustrous disk appeared in its completeness, 
dispersing the gloom of night. Not a sign of a cloud 
disturbed the almost visible blue of the heavens, 
where until now the bright evening star had sparkled 
as the only jewel. 

“Tell me, ’Mone, is the moon shining now at Say- 
brook, where Mamma is?” exclaimed the boy, break- 
ing the silence with this question. “Do you believe,” 
he continued, “that she can see how the man in it is 
nodding to me?” 

“The moon shines down on all the land; over the 
great water too, just as it shines now on those dark 
woods yonder. It looks down on your little mother 


A Tale of the Pequot War. 


49 


as she watches longingly for you. It also looks down 
on my father's wigwam — even now while we are look- 
ing up at it and thinking of our people." 

The little Indian girl spoke earnestly as if to her- 
self — and then relapsed into silence. 

“Just look," said David, “how the evening star 
beams down on us, and how the moon shines brighter 
and brighter; almost as bright as the sun in the day 
time. You could surely find the way to the shore, 
where my Mamma lives by the great water. You 
promised to take me to her. Oh ! let us fly while the 
night is so light !" 

“This night? Do you know what would happen to 
us if our flight were discovered? And supposing we 
escaped our pursuers, what would you be able to do, 
if the wild bear of the woods met us ?" 

“I am strong — I would shoot him with my bow! 
Do not fear 'Mone, only show me the way. You have 
always said you could find it by the stars. You don't 
really want to stay with the wicked Pequots and 
never go back to your good father ?” 

“My father! Oh! my dear, kind father! Shall I 
ever see you again ?" 

Covering her eyes with both hands the usually 
brave girl burst into loud sobs, overcome with emo- 
tion at the mention of her passionately loved father. 


4 


50 A Tale of the Peqaot War. 

“Don't cry, dear, dear 'Mone! Let us be off 
to-night ! Please ! All the warriors are gone and the 
moon is so bright. Why should we be afraid?” con- 
tinued the boy as he tenderly embraced his weeping 
companion, who seemed to be struggling with a 
weighty problem. 

Suddenly she sprang from her crouching attitude, 
dried her tears, and as though she had found a solution, 
exclaimed: “Yes, I will go with you — we will run 
away to-night. I planned it long ago, but it always 
seemed too hazardous. Let us wait awhile until the 
owl begins to hoot; then we will set out — following 
that twinkling star toward the sun-rising. Lie down 
now and sleep a little, so that you may be strong and 
courageous for a long journey, on which may Manitou, 
the Great Spirit, be our guide !” 

Momone’s voice had been growing steadier — the last 
words were uttered with such childlike trust and con- 
fidence that they seemed a prayer — and the Heavenly 
Father, whom the Indians call Manitou, must surely 
have heard the cry of the ignorant Indian child. 
Otherwise how could Momone have displayed so much 
assurance and self-reliance in the face of such a 
perilous undertaking as a flight into the wilderness ? 

Hastily and with great precautions she made the 


A Tale of the Pequot War. 51 

necessary preparations. Taking one of the mats she 
converted it into a bag, and packed therein a supply of 
provisions. After gathering together everything that 
could be used as a weapon of defense against wild 
animals, she lay down, herself, on the couch near the 
sleeping boy, the moon shining full upon her face as 
a preventive of too deep slumber. 

In a few minutes all were asleep in the little den, 
with the exception of Amigo, faithful, sagacious, and 
alive to every nocturnal sound; but only the murmur 
of running water and the whisper of the wind in the 
tree-tops penetrated the attentive ears of the trusty 
watch-dog. 

The moonbeams fell with a bright shimmer on wood 
and mead, and the ever-flowing stream, and now the 
solitary evening star had been reinforced by millions 
of other planets until the whole firmament seemed 
strewn with glittering jewels. 

Peace and harmony pervaded nature and the chil- 
dren slumbered in sweet forgetfulness. 

Suddenly upon the stillness came a shrill, loud 
whistle! As if electrified Amigo sprang to his feet, 
and Momone was up with a bound, holding her breath, 
and listening to the prolonged, echoing sound. Then 
came the answer — a mingled shriek from hundreds 
of throats. 


52 


A Tale of the Pequot War. 


“David, wake up ! There they are T said Momone, 
“Don’t you hear them?” 

The little one rubbed his sleepy eyes and rose 
quickly from the couch. 

“I am wide awake. Give me the bow, and now let 
us go, Momone.” 

“Poor Davy! You didn’t hear them shout? The 
warriors have returned and now it’s all up with our 
flight,” she sobbed in despair. To bury anew her 
hopes was more than the Indian girl’s yearning heart 
could bear, and David began to cry bitterly too, though 
he scarcely realized the fact that he must still remain 
a prisoner with the Pequots. Amigo tried hard to 
console the children by rubbing his cold nose repeat- 
edly on their hot faces, bathed in tears, and for some 
time the helpless little things gave vent to their grief. 

Finally Momone mastered herself and holding up 
her hand said earnestly : 

“Weep no more, David ! In spite of this you 
shall see Saybrook again. I solemnly promise to take 
you back to your mother ; I do in very truth.” 

Scarcely, however, had she finished speaking before 
a loud, incoherent noise of voices approached nearer 
and nearer their retired nook, waking the echoes on 
every side. The children retreated in alarm to the 
furthest end of the recess. 


A Tale of the Pequot War. 53 

“Out with you, my tiger kitten! Out with you, 
my pretty puss ! Sassagus, the great Sachem, calls 
for his Forest Bird. But you may bring the* little 
paleface with you ; he must celebrate the day with us 
and see the scalps of his friends !” 

It was Ninicraft, her mortal enemy! With many 
others he appeared, before the entrance to the den, in 
the light of the pine torches, to the children’s affrighted 
gaze. 

Terrified, David clung to his young protectress, 
while with outstretched hand she calmly warded off 
the intrusive Ninicraft. 

“Go and tell Sassagus that Momone will come! — 
that she fears neither the great chief nor the whizz of 
the venomous snake !” 

With impressive dignity Momone stepped out, hold- 
ing the hand of little David — past the scowling Nini- 
craft and down through the ranks of warriors. A 
loud, scornful laugh and Ninicraft flung his weapon 
<( the venomous snake ” up in the air, skilfully catching 
it again, and then, accompanied by the noisy crowd, he 
followed the two children who, with composure, con- 
tinued on their way to the encampment. 


CHAPTER IV. 


At Saybrook the quiet days of grief and mourn- 
ing had been succeeded by decided hostilities. The 
Pequots, emboldened by the silence prevailing about 
the blockhouse, had actually attempted to seize the fort, 
but were repulsed by the brave commander, who 
caused them to retreat with bloody heads. 

Not being successful in an open attack the insolent 
redskins then sought to accomplish their design by 
craft. Creeping through the high grass in the imme- 
diate neighborhood of the house, they assaulted from 
the rear whoever was called, by an errand, outside the 
defensive stockade. With many an audacious trick 
had they eluded the vigilance of the garrison and 
in consequence many a wounded man had to be 
cared for. Even upon Gardiner’s own life had they 
made an attempt on one occasion, and but for the pro- 
tection of a coat of extra thickness Saybrook might 
have lost her brave commander. 

Gardiner decided to surprise the “vicious wasps” by 
strategy, thus returning cunning with cunning. The 
opportunity came very soon. 

One morning three of the fleet-footed warriors stole 
around the fort, and finding that they had been ob- 
served, made signs that they wished to enter into a 
parley. 


A Tale of the Pequot War. 


55 


Gardiner permitted them to approach the stockade 
and then enquired of them their mission. 

The Indians called out: “We are Pequots and can 
kill you like mosquitoes; but give us fire-arms and 
we will leave you unmolested and go up to Hartford 
for booty. Say, have you not had fighting enough?” 

“I am not so sure of that !” Gardiner replied hastily, 
“but I certainly would advise you to go to Hartford, 
where you will find many brave men. The women, 
however, would be of no use to you in your wigwams, 
for being unaccustomed to work, they would only con- 
sume your provisions. On the other hand, we have 
plenty of fire-arms and clothing here, so kill us first 
and then get the booty! I have, however, taken pre- 
cautions, and would prefer to fight a while longer 
before letting you have what you want. 

“Tell your comrades in arms that there are men here 
and not women — men who fear no Pequot. 

“Go ! I tell you ! Run, or I’ll discharge my flintlock !” 

Gardiner spoke with threatening voice and after the 
flying Pequots sent a peal of derisive laughter. 

Full of sudden rage and fury the Indians hurried 
to a thicket where their weapons as well as their com- 
rades were evidently concealed. Perceiving this, Gar- 
diner waved his hat and gave the signal to fire the 
cannon. 

Ah ! how the ball went straight to its mark, and 


56 


A Tale of the Pequot War. 


what a piercing yell resounded from the thicket! 
Only a few Pequots, from this ambuscade, escaped 
alive, and Saybrook had a slight respite, the “wasps” 
being kept at a distance for several weeks. 

Mary breathed easier now that her concern for her 
husband was less constant. For his sake, though just 
as poignant, her grief for her lost darling had been 
put in the background, and as a Christian woman she 
had learned to soar above a mother’s sorrow. In her 
bitterly wounded heart there reigned once more the 
peace of God, and she had schooled herself to whisper 
with humility: “What God hath done is well done,” 
knowing that the day would come when this could be 
said aloud with a heart full of praise and gratitude. 
Mary thus looked forward to a meeting with her loved 
one — as a spirit in heaven. 

All her earthly hopes were now centred in her hus- 
band, who amidst the turmoil of continual warfare 
had yet time and opportunity to give her an encourag- 
ing word or a tender smile, often more consoling to 
Mary than if they had been able to have long talks 
together. It was, however, owing to the fact that both 
husband and wife sought and found consolation at the 
same Source. 

Every night, ere slumber drew its gentle veil of 
oblivion over their troubled hearts, Lion and Mary 


A Tale of the Pequot War. 


57 


knelt in secret prayer, asking the protection of his 
guardian angel for their beloved little David (were he 
in heaven or on God’s earth). 

So peace had returned to their hearts in spite of the 
bloody skirmishing that lately had been going on 
almost daily before Saybrook’s stockade. 

Meanwhile a more determined stand had been taken 
in Boston since the Pequots, with increasing insolence, 
had been daring enough to murder, in the most cruel 
manner, two men of distinction: Captain Stone and 
Captain Morton. 

The governor, therefore, decided to make a seri- 
ious onslaught, and obtain retribution; subsequently 
despatching some well drilled soldiers under command 
of Captains Mason and Underhill. 

Gardiner happened to be looking out on the water 
one morning when he discovered three large vessels 
bearing directly down upon Saybrook. 

What he saw were indeed his own countrymen 
advancing toward him and not the red rascals ! 

It was not long before some sixty or seventy men 
landed, led by Captain Mason, who was accompanied 
by a Pequot. 

Observing Gardiner’s look of distrust directed to 
the Indian walking, unbound, beside him, Mason 
replied to the mute interrogation: “Mr. Gardiner, I 


A Tale of the Pequot War. 


5 * 

perceive that Wequash, being a Pequot, does not meet 
with your approval; but be not dismayed, we are 
sure of this boy. Were he to be seen by any of his 
tribe, the terrible punishment of the traitor would 
await him. So you need have no fears on that score, 
or feel obliged to keep a sharp eye upon him. Now 
for the reason of my appearance here with such an 
imposing retinue ! We intend finally to suppress those 
rascally Pequots ! I have landed here, not only because 
of an appointment to meet Uncas, the sachem of the 
Mohegans, but with the hope of being reinforced by 
your men. We shall not have to wait long for Uncas, 
as it is for his interest to help us blow out the brains 
of the Pequots, who are his mortal enemies. Yes 
indeed ! though it seems to surprise you — and so here 
I am with the order to annihilate this tribe ! However, 
I need your support — and the citizens of Boston have 
reckoned not a little upon your help. Are you pre- 
pared for this emergency ?” 

“When do you propose marching, Captain, and how 
with your few men would you attack the Pequots, 
more than seven hundred in number? Where would 
you attempt the assault ? The plan appears to me pre- 
mature and hasty. Pardon my unvarnished speech, 
which, however, has no reference to you, the brave 
captain, but concerns the counsellors at Boston. If 
you really intend going forward I shall not tarry 


A Tale of the Pequot War. 


59 


behind, for surely I owe a bloody visit to those who 
have robbed me of my dearest hope in life !” 

“What have the brutes killed that belonged to you ?” 
enquired Mason, with sympathetic eagerness. 

“My child, my only son! Without direct evidence 
I have every reason to believe it,” replied Gardiner in 
an outburst of resentment. 

“If this crime be added to their many other misdeeds 
then shall the Pequots have their deserts, and Gardiner, 
you must pull with us.” 

“When do you think of setting out?” enquired 
Gardiner. 

“This very evening if we are not detained by our 
allies. The moon will be full in three days and by 
then we will reach the stronghold on the Mystic, fall 
upon the Pequots and mete out to them the judgment 
of God. Are you ready?” 

“On my dear wife’s account, I would that the notice 
were less brief, yet I follow you in the name of God ! 
May it please you to enter and accept of our hospitality 
until evening.” 

Having quartered the men in the outbuildings Gar- 
diner took his guest in to see Mary and acquaint her 
with the proceedings. 

Not a murmur or complaint escaped Mary’s lips to 
make her husband’s task the harder, but in her blue 
eyes glistening tears bore witness to the struggle 


6o 


A Tale of the Pequot War. 


within her heart. As hostess she performed her duties 
faultlessly, and Mason with a profound sense of grati- 
tude acknowledged her considerateness. 

“Lose not courage and hope, but have confidence in 
God and in our just claims, dear lady,” he said. “We 
shall return as victors, and — who knows God’s ways 
and means ? Mayhap, after all your grief and sorrow, 
your little darling will be restored to you !” 

Captain Mason’s voice sounded unusually gentle 
and grave. Evidently he was greatly moved. 

“Yes, Captain, I hope to embrace my son again, but 
it will be as a spirit in heaven. I thank you, however, 
none the less, for your kind, consoling words — only 
bring my husband back, for nothing else in this world 
do I possess so dear to me.” 

It was, indeed, between the husband and wife a 
difficult and sad parting — mute as to words, but 
eloquent with the beating of their hearts. A last 
embrace — a last pressure of the hand and Mary was 
alone — alone with her grief for the loss of husband 
and child. Alone? No, she realized that this was 
untrue, for was she not in her Heavenly Father’s care ? 
The thought brought comfort in her hour of trial, 
and after a fervent prayer to the Source of all good 
her previously despondent heart was inspired with 
fresh courage and confidence, peace and hope. 


CHAPTER V. 


Fir-trees stood darkly outlined against a sky across 
which masses of shadowy clouds were scurrying. 
Only now and then through rifts could the bright 
light of the moon surprise the slumbering earth. It 
seemed as though storm and battle dominated aloft, 
ever thicker cloud-masses being driven by adverse 
winds until even in the Milky Way not a single spark 
was visible. 

However, the children of the forest, when the light 
of the skies failed them, were wont to kindle huge fires 
as a substitute, and the woods were then bathed in a 
deep glow, the logs burning brightly and crackling 
with the heat as the sparks flew upward. 

In the Pequot camp, where quiet had lately pre- 
vailed, were now heard intermingled cries of noisy 
mirth and exultation. Children were crouching and 
women bustling about the fires over which hung 
enormous kettles, a feast being in preparation in honor 
of the chief and his warriors, who had returned with 
rich spoils, causing general rejoicing. Boiling in the 
pots were hugh haunches of venison and dried buffalo 
meat, while fish was fastened on sticks to broil and 
among other good things were wooden bowls filled 


62 A Tale of the Pequot War. 

with golden corn, the favorite food of the sons of 
Manitou. 

While the squaws were thus busied apart the men 
were seated in a circle, Sassagus in the midst, before 
his wigwam, on an elevated seat covered with a 
magnificent bison skin. The chieftain was silently- 
smoking the “pipe of peace.” On his head was the 
crown of gay feathers in shape like a cock’s comb, 
and sweet scented grasses were woven among his 
smoothly parted jet-black locks. Porcupine quills, 
dyed in natural colors, adorned the border of his 
outer garments; his legs were encased in leather 
leggings, richly decorated with beads, and his feet 
shod with beautiful moccasins — the heels adorned with 
soft, bushy fox-tails. 

The face of Sassagus was painted in a more than 
ever frightful manner. Glaring red and yellow 
stripes, interspersed with light blue, were drawn across 
his forehead, while his cheeks and chin were flaming 
red. 

At present with great gravity and stolidity he was 
watching the dancing of some fantastically dressed 
men who, with loud shouts, threw their weapons into 
the air to catch them again, as they fell, with unfail- 
ing dexterity, thereby earning the wild applause of the 
spectators. The warriors continued to dance and per- 


A Tale of the Pequot War. 63 

form to the best of their ability, failing, however, to 
win any word of praise from the sachem, who scorned 
to betray by even a movement of the eyelids apprecia- 
tion of their skill. Suddenly the inner circle opened 
and place was given Momone and little David, who 
held her hand, and followed her half-shyly, half- 
defiantly. 

Fearlessly, and with head erect, like a princess, the 
Indian maid approached and stood before the chief. 

“Here, Sassagus, are Momone and little Paleface , 
who greet you. What do you want? Why did you 
send Ninicraft, the Hissing Snake, to the Woodbird’s 
nest? Know you not that he pants to drink her 
blood ?” 

“The snake’s hiss does not kill, neither are words 
arrows. Ninicraft will take good care not to harm 
his master’s Woodbird, so Momone may remain here 
without fear !” replied Sassagus with a half-mocking, 
half-encouraging inflection of voice. 

“Fear? Sassagus knows that the daughter of the 
great chief, Wyandanch, is unacquainted with such a 
feeling; but the little paleface is young and tender, 
his spirit might easily escape ere the hour of your 
revenge arrives.” 

So spoke Momone, discreet and fearless. 

“That will be soon, and it was on account of the 


64 


A Tale of the Pequot War. 


paleface that I sent for you,” replied the sachem. 
“When the moon turns her face toward the West 
Momone must be prepared to leave with us, as the boy 
will then be of service. For the present stay by my 
wigwam near me !” 

Without demurring the little girl lay down at the 
feet of Sassagus, who again had lapsed into silence. 

Drawing the boy close to her, Momone whispered 
him to keep quiet. Amigo, too, had slipped in among 
them unnoticed and now nestled up to his young 
master. 

The din made by the dancing, shrieking and carous- 
ing Pequots was at its height. With the exception of 
the sachem sitting upright and mute as a lifeless 
statue on his elevated seat, all took part from the 
oldest to the youngest. Dissipation had reached the 
verge of frenzy. Intoxicated with fire water, the 
Indians continued, for several hours, in their mad 
career, before the excitement gradually began to sub- 
side. 

When Sassagus finally rose and retired to his wig- 
wam he had seen the last man deep in slumber and 
had given a lingering glance at the two children 
reposing so sweetly. 

The watchmen appeared to have neglected their 
duty for the fires had now burned low, but the moon, 


A Tale of the Peqaot War . 65 

regaining her ascendency over the encroaching clouds, 
shone with great brilliancy. 

All was calm and still — so still that one could hear 
the flowing of the river. 

Even Amigo's ever watchful ear could catch noth- 
ing save the sound of the whispering night winds, and 
he too seemed inclined to abandon himself to sleep — 
when suddenly he raised his nose in the air as though 
scenting some wild animal. 

As if some occult influence had affected him his 
tail began to wag and he whined softly, though there 
was apparently no reason for his signs of restlessness. 
It was strange — and yet he might , perhaps, have heard 
something! 

A muffled, trembling sound came over the mossy 
forest ground like the tread of many feet, mingled 
with the rustle of withered leaves. Was it only the 
night wind playing with the dead leaves? But what 
were those dark shadows that seemed to creep there on 
the ground? 

Suddenly an Indian dog sprang up, baying loudly, 
and at the same moment Sassagus stepped out through 
the opening of his wigwam. 

Every creeping shadow raised itself! From the 
ground the dark forms seemed to come in ever 
increasing numbers. 


5 


66 


A Tale of the Pequot War. 


“Owanux! Owanux!” called loud and shrill the 
chieftain’s voice. “Up, the English are here!” and, 
swinging his weapon, he rushed forward to meet the 
first intruder, who was no other than Gardiner, him- 
self. The bold warrior fell, pierced with bullets, and 
now the entire camp was aroused, and was literally 
swarming with redskins. A fierce battle ensued 
between these and the whites. 

In an instant Gardiner was attacked by a couple of 
Pequots who, being half -intoxicated, were easily over- 
come. Another foe, however, was upon him from the 
rear, threatening with uplifted tomahawk to end the 
struggle by dealing a death-blow, but his life was saved, 
through the unexpected intervention, in this moment 
of extreme danger, of the trusty Amigo. Springing 
upon the Pequot from behind he threw him to the 
ground, where he remained lifeless, and the dog, hav- 
ing finally recovered his master, jumped about, barking 
loudly with joy. Gardiner looked with astonishment, 
exclaiming : “By heaven, it is Amigo ! God help me to 
find my son !” So shaken was he with emotion that he 
scarcely noticed the animal’s caresses, but Amigo, 
sagacious creature, ran back to the tent of the fallen 
chieftain, where Gardiner, following, found his son, 
timidly crouched in a corner, and held in the arms of 
an Indian girl. 


A Tale of the Pequot War. 


67 


With a cry of inexpressible delight the overjoyed 
father gave way to his feelings, and little David shout- 
ing: “Father, my dear, dear Father!” sprang up to 
meet him. Then, indicating the young Indian maid 
he said: “This is ’Mone, my dear 'Mone! She may 
go with us to Mamma, may she not? Oh ! Let us get 
away quickly from this place, far away from the 
dreadful Pequots!” 

Indeed there could be no tarrying there, for during 
the few minutes passed in mutual recognition, the 
tumult had reached its height and the conflict raged 
from one end of the camp to the other. It seemed 
like a miracle that they should have been overlooked, 
but already the noise sounded as though the struggle 
was nearing them. 

Gardiner seized the child without another word, 
intending to fight his way back to his men. As he 
stood in the entrance to the tent he felt his arm 
grasped. It was Momone. 

“Not that way ! It would be certain death. Follow 
Momone ; she knows a path, hidden from everyone but 
the Forest Bird. Come with her !” 

Gardiner hesitated as he looked at the little maid, 
who spoke with so much energy. Dare he trust her 
with the precious life in his arms? And yet the red 


68 


A Tale of the Pequot War. 


glow announcing the swift approach of a consuming 
fire allowed him no choice in the matter. 

“Come, let us go with ’Mone!” This from his 
rescued darling decided him. Momone, however, had 
taken advantage of the moment of hesitation. Having 
with strong hands removed the couch of Sassagus at 
the base of one of the giant forest trees, she laid bare 
several large moss-covered flat stones. Gardiner 
raised these at Momone’s bidding, and a good sized 
opening presented itself to view, with steps of a natural 
formation descending underground. Momone seized 
Gardiner’s hand and drew him silently forward into 
pitchy darkness. The air was damp and chill like 
that of a cellar, and the big man stooped cautiously as 
he followed his companion, who was also stooping, 
though it was no more necessary for her to do so than 
it would have been for Amigo to crouch. All at once 
the passage widened and led upward, and finally the 
party emerged under the thick boughs of a large horn- 
beam, which appeared, with the low bushes tightly 
enclosing it, like one immense tree. 

Stepping out from the leafy roof Gardiner tried to 
get his bearings. 

How dreadful was the scene that met his eye and 
the sounds that reached his ear ! 

With the sky aflame, the wails that broke upon the 


A Tale of the Pequot War. 69 

stillness of the woods were enough to make one 
shudder ! 

“Away, away from here, down to the river !” 
pleaded warningly Momone. Continuing to walk as 
fast as obstacles and the rough path permitted, the little 
guide stood at last on the bank of the swift flowing 
Mystic. 

“Where are you taking us, child ? There is no ford 
here, neither can we climb up the embankment. We 
must return to the shelter of the dark trees, otherwise 
the moonlight will betray us !” 

Gardiner was about suiting the action to the word 
when he saw Amigo make a dash to the very edge of 
the stream and suddenly disappear — evidently know- 
ing the ground and circumstances better than his 
master. Momone also — almost before he was aware 
of it — had disappeared behind a sharp-jutting point 
of rock. 

Upon closer observation Gardiner, by the bright 
light of the moon, found an extremely narrow path- 
way, as if cut by Nature, herself, in the rock. 

Beyond this perilous path was a luxuriant little 
valley, where Momone and Amigo already awaited 
him. 

“You and David are safe now and Momone may go 
where she will.” 


7o 


A Tale of the Pequot War . 


Half-appealing, half-defiant was the tone in which 
these words were uttered. Could she have felt in her 
untamed heart something like injured pride and rising 
jealousy? Had she not been everything to the little 
paleface, who now apparently without a thought 
had almost wholly forsaken her — a great sachem’s 
daughter? Would one of those light-haired foes have 
done an equally valuable service for the independent 
red men of the forest and made them credit his words ? 
Never ! ! A feeling of uncurbed liberty glowed in 
the Indian girl’s dark eyes. 

“What are you thinking of, little one? Do you 
want to go back to your people ? Ah ! do not return to 
them. You are too noble and gentle to be happy 
among the wild Pequots, should you even have among 
the living a father or a brother. Do come with us !” 

“Momone belongs not to the savage Pequot tribe. 
Wyandanch, her father, is Sachem of the Paumanacks, 
and her tribe inhabits a far-away country toward the 
rising sun — over there where the blue water stretches 
into the infinite. In that direction Momone will turn 
her steps, guided by Manitou, the Great Spirit.” 

With surprise Gardiner listened to the maiden’s 
words, spoken with so much dignity. 

Now, yielding more to the impulse of love, and 
setting aside her pride, she drew the boy passionately 


A Tale of the Pequot War. 71 

to her heart, kissing him repeatedly and whispering 
fond words. 

Overcome by excitement and fatigue the child had 
only just begun to realize that his dear friend and pro- 
tectress was about to leave him. Giving way to his 
grief he begged and implored her to remain in such a 
manner that it would indeed have been cold and unfeel- 
ing of anyone not to be moved. 

“Dear, kind ’Mone,” sobbed the little one, “please 
stay with Davy, who loves you so much. I will try 
and make Father and Mother just as fond of you, and 
will give you everything I have, if you will* not go 
away, for I should die if you did.” 

In very truth the boy’s delicate frame was so shaken 
with grief that it trembled in every nerve as though 
stricken by a cold blast. Momone, who loved him so 
ardently, was unable to oppose his will now — unable 
to withstand the sight of his emotion. 

Throwing her arms about him, she whispered : “Be 
quiet, my white swan ; weep no more. See how much 
Momone loves you; she will go with you!” 

Gardiner, greatly impressed, had been looking on, 
and now laying his hand on the Indian girl’s head, he 
said ? “May God reward you, noble child ! But listen 
to me ! I promise you that I will not rest until you 
are restored to your father ! First, however, we must 


72 


A Tale of the Pequot War. 


take David to his sorrowing mother, who for months 
has believed her darling lost.” Surveying the place 
where they stood, he continued: “Over in that cave 
you can be safely concealed from spying eyes. Lie 
down and rest. Amigo will keep watch, but for your 
life do not leave here until I return. My duty calls 
me away from you to the Pequot camp, but I shall see 
you again in a few hours, if God so wills. You are in 
His keeping.” 

Without further delay, but with a heavy heart, Gar- 
diner obeyed the voice of duty. The moon was still 
high, aud its light — no longer dimmed by passing 
clouds — enabled him easily to find his way back. 

Approaching the place of the terrible conflict he 
stumbled over the bodies of slain enemies, and after 
wandering about for a short time came upon some of 
his followers. “Halt! Who goes there? Halloa! 
Is it the Lieutenant? God be praised! We were 
beginning to fear that you might have fallen in that 
dreadful combat.” 

“How about the Pequots?” Gardiner replied with 
a question. 

“All quiet, as you see ! Only seven have we taken 
alive to send to the Commissioners in Boston. It is a 
pity we cannot send more to make a deeper impression. 


A Tale of the Pequot War. 73 

The others are lying dead under the smoking ruins. 
I was obliged, with reluctance, to resort to burning, as 
the chances were against us; for, as you know, we 
were immediately, upon our entrance into the camp, 
surrounded by hundreds of Pequots. Had the red ras- 
cals not been half-intoxicated, it might have gone ill 
with us, so in that critical moment I seized a fire-brand 
and flung it into a tent that was instantly in flames. 
The piercing cries for help of the poor unfortunates 
rent our hearts until we bethought ourselves of the 
crimes committed against our people ; then we forcibly 
repressed our sympathy for them, and shut our ears 
to the groaning around us. God was on our side and 
through him our enemies were destroyed, with the 
exception of seven who escaped, and seven who were 
made prisoners. But now tell us where you were and 
what prevented your being present during these scenes 
of horror?” 

Gardiner having listened with great interest to the 
lengthy report of Captain Mason, hastened to give 
an account of himself, conscious of being at fault by 
his absence from the fray. 

When he described the rescue of. his beloved child 
the eyes of the rough soldier grew moist at the recital 
and he kept repeating: “Did not I say: God’s ways 


74 


A Tale of the Pequot War. 


are wonderful ! Oh the joy of your noble wife ! But 
what have you done with your little son? Where is 
he?” 

“Necessity and duty no longer requiring our pres- 
ence here I want you to go back with me to Saybrook, 
so that you may have the opportunity to keep your 
promise to my wife by returning to her not only her 
husband but her lost darling !” 

Thus ere the bright sun shone on the desolate spot 
the two men found themselves at the mouth of the 
cavern where, safely guarded by Amigo, the two chil- 
dren slept peacefully after all the misery and fright 
of that terrible night. 

The troops, under command of an experienced 
soldier, were now on their way to Boston, with the 
prisoners, and Gardiner and Mason started for Say- 
brook, the former with a precious burden on the horse 
before him. It was a gay little party. David shouted 
with delight to be on his father’s horse, and chattered 
as though his tongue could never tire. Momone, who 
at first sat soberly and quietly with Mason, soon found 
his kind though somewhat cavalier manners irre- 
sistible, and became by degrees quite at her ease, the 
Forest Bird and Wild Cat being transformed into a 
very tame little bird or gentle pussy-cat, so thoroughly 


A Tale of the Pequot War. 


75 


had this gallant man captured the heart of Wyan- 
danch’s daughter. 

Finally, on the morning of the fourth day the riders 
reached the vicinity of Saybrook. 

Gardiner, pulling up his horse in a small wood, 
said : 

“Suppose, Captain, that you ride into Saybrook first, 
with Momone, and prepare my wife for the great joy 
in store for her? I fear that for this I scarcely possess 
the necessary self-command. The excitement might 
be too much for her sorrow-laden heart to bear, unless 
you are willing to give me a little assistance.” 

“That will I with the greatest pleasure, though I 
am not so sure that you have selected a particularly 
good messenger. However, I shall endeavor to be 
diplomatic — but do not tarry too long behind me, for 
I shall not be able to keep the secret any great length 
of time. What, David ! Another kiss from your dear 
’Mone? Three ought to be enough.” 

Then off he went on his fleet-footed steed followed 
by Gardiner’s glance of loving gratitude. Clasping 
his hands on his son’s curly head, the happy father 
then'raised his eyes with inaudible heartfelt thanks to 
the God of mercy. After a short rest he rode on 
slowly, calling Amigo with the customary whistle. 


76 


A Tale of the Pequot War. 


The dog that until now had kept close to the heels of 
his master's horse seemed to have disappeared alto- 
gether. Gardiner felt annoyed to continue on with- 
out him, but there was nothing else to do. 

Nearer and nearer home he was carried by his 
noble horse. Only a few feet now separated him from 
the stockade that guarded his dear wife, and how fast 
the brave man’s heart was beating ! He could not 
resist hugging the child, who, the moment he was 
released, exclaimed ecstatically : “Mamma ! Mamma ! 
dear Mamma!” and a clear feminine voice replied 
with passionate emphasis, “My darling son !” In 
breathless haste a figure sprang forward — Gardiner 
threw himself from his horse and Mary held — in one 
embrace — both husband and child! 

“Heavenly Father, I thank Thee!” 

Her heart overflowing with gratitude and praise 
she knelt on the ground, holding her son in her arms. 

“It was not my fault, it was all owing to that rascal 
Amigo !” exclaimed Mason, apologetically. “Your 
wife understood more than I told her — she guessed 
immediately that the little runaway was near — and 
that’s the way, old dog, that you bring me to grief in 
my diplomatic career !” 

Faces beamed with happiness and hearts sang more 
blithely than larks when these five persons entered 


A Tale of the Pequot War. 


77 


Saybrook, where so much anxiety had been experi- 
enced. Days of peace, undisturbed by Pequots, fol- 
lowed those of grief and care. 

Captain Mason remained for several days a welcome 
guest, and then was obliged to leave in order to rejoin 
his troops. 

It was a sorrowful parting for all concerned, and 
most difficult for the children to say farewell to the 
gay soldier, who, always ready for a joke or a romp, 
had won the affection of both David and Momone. 
By setting spurs to his brown horse Mason was obliged 
to put an end abruptly to “the last, the very last good- 
bye.” 

The brave captain’s holiday was over and he had 
to give his attention to things more serious. Over- 
taking his men soon after this he entered Boston, 
reporting the victory at Mystic. He had pursued 
the remaining united Pequots on the homeward 
march, had driven them into the swamps, after 
capturing the warriors, and the tribe was now so 
weakened that no more bloody deeds could be 
attempted, with strength shattered and reputation 
lost. 

Thus ended the Pequot War. 


CHAPTER VI. 


Almost four years had passed since Saybrook was 
built at the mouth of the Connecticut River, and these 
to Gardiner were years of hard work, deprivation and 
unceasing care and anxiety. In spite of all, how- 
ever, he had become much attached to the home he had 
made for himself, pleasanter than ever now that it 
was again brightened by the presence of his son. 

Through her docility and devotion to Mistress Gar- 
diner and attachment to David the little Indian girl 
remained in the blockhouse, gaining for herself the 
right and privilege of a daughter. 

The boy clung to his Indian sister with passionate 
love. If mention was made of Momone leaving Say- 
brook he was overwhelmed with grief, continuing the 
whole day wrapped in gloom. 

Though Momone longed to see her home again and 
the father of whom she had been deprived, yet she had 
yielded so far to her affection for the child as not to 
insist upon the accomplishment of her projected jour- 
ney. 

Thus the winter had come and with it the impossi- 
bility of such an undertaking. 

How cosy was the domestic circle when the huge 
logs were blazing brightly in the chimney! Mary’s 


A Tale of the Pequot War. 


79 


eyes vied with her son’s in brilliancy, and Gardiner’s 
heart rejoiced, — each time he returned to the hearth, 
after attending to his various duties, — with the sight 
of the delightful picture that greeted him. He would 
find his lively little son and the dark-eyed Momone 
at his wife’s feet, in the light of the flickering fire, 
listening eagerly to the story of Jacob and the angels — 
or following with deep sympathy the promotion of 
Joseph, a shepherd boy, who became, through God’s 
guidance, the deliverer of his people. Mary was asked 
to tell it again and again, especially that portion 
describing Jacob’s recovery of the son whom they had 
believed dead. 

Then David would throw his arms about his 
mother’s neck and lay his head on her bosom, while 
poor little Momone sat still and let the tears run, 
unchecked, down her cheeks — but Mary, quietly plac- 
ing her hand on the brave Indian girl’s head, would 
gently stroke it, being so conversant with grief that 
she knew intuitively what was passing in the mind of 
the independent child of the forest — the homesick 
feeling gnawing at her heart. 

Whenever Mary saw the yearning look in the little 
one’s eyes gazing over the water that bound the 
horizon on one side of Saybrook, she had compassion 
on her solitude — taking care on such occasions to ask 


8o 


A Tale of the Pequot War. 


for a helping hand, or sending David with a message 
to the dreamer — thus drawing her out of herself. 

Momone had shown cleverness in the performance 
of domestic tasks, was extremely desirous of learning 
everything connected with housekeeping, and indeed 
was a model of obedience and dutifulness. 

Mary and Lion were both very fond of their adopted 
daughter, and this may have been one reason — though 
unconscious of it themselves — why they had yielded 
to the wishes of their son, and put off Momone’s 
departure. At all events the love surrounding the 
Indian girl made the situation lighter for her to bear, 
at times even forgotten with a child's happy careless- 
ness, so that she frequently went singing about the 
house, blithe and gay as a little woodbird. She and 
David and the faithful, sagacious Amigo — that we 
should not forget — played in the fort’s enclosure on 
fine winter days. Amigo would draw his young mas- 
ter on a light sled constructed by the skilful Dick — or 
Momone would fly over the white drifts on snow shoes 
of her own invention. 

With pride and satisfaction Mistress Gardiner 
observed how happy her son seemed to be, and how his 
strength increased mentally and physically. 

It was the end of February. The sun had shone 
with unusual warmth — burning many a large hole in 


A Tale of the Pequot War. 81 

the white mantle that still covered the ground — and 
the children had been out of doors nearly the whole 
day, little David’s mother having just called him into 
the house. 

Momone, however, sought her favorite resting- 
place — a corner post of the stockade. Climbing as 
nimbly as a squirrel to the top and taking her seat 
there, she looked out on the western horizon, where 
the setting sun was painting the sky a bright red, and 
leaving on the water the glistening traces of his course. 
The whole atmosphere was permeated with a rosy 
shimmer deepening in color as it poured over the 
water like liquid fire. 

“Is my little brown daughter not ready to come in 
and be with her white swan t” said Mary, having 
stepped, unperceived by Momone, close up to the 
palisade. 

There was no answer from the maiden, usually so 
quick to hear. 

“What does Wyandanch’s daughter see? Is her 
ear trying to catch the singing of the waves that make 
the music of her home, or her eye searching for the 
woods of Montauk?” 

“No, Mistress, Momone is not listening to the music 
of the waves, nor does she seek the woods of Montauk ; 
what drew her attention was the departure of the Red 


6 


82 


A Tale of the Pequot War. 


Swan that sank with the sun to the feet of the Great 
Spirit. Ah ! He can fly, the Red Swan, mocking the 
arrow in his breast — but Momone is wingless and 
fettered.” 

“Momone knows that she wears no fetters, and 
when the mild air of spring brings back the songsters 
then can our Woodhird, too, fly back to her nest. But 
what means my little daughter by the Red Swan ? 
Will she not tell to her white friends her thoughts? 
Come in now, and be not abashed. We all love you !” 

“Momone also loves the kind lady and Davy, other- 
wise would the Woodhird still be in Saybrook?” 

With these words the little Indian maid sprang 
from her perch, and with submissive tenderness looked 
in the face of her mistress as she pressed the latter’s 
hand to her breast. 

“Indeed, my child, I know you are a good little 
daughter to us, but it is cold now out of doors. Let 
us go in and you shall, if you like, tell us of the Red 
Swan. David has been anxiously waiting for his story 
to-day.” 

So speaking, Mary, leading the girl by the hand, 
returned to the cosy chimney corner, where David 
was amusing himself with Amigo. 

“’Monel quick, quick! Tell nie a story,” was the 
impatient greeting. 


A Tale of the Pequot War. 83 

“Gently, my son. Ask your sister for what you 
want, but do not demand it so imperiously.” 

“Don’t be angry, ’Mone ! A story, please. It is so 
nice and warm here and the fire makes such beautiful 
ghosts !” This came in flattering tones from the child 
as he hugged his young friend. 

Mary laid a large stick on the fire, that was throwing 
out sparks, and sending little blue and red flames up 
the chimney. David called them “ghosts,” as Momone 
had told him they were the spirits of warriors fallen 
without honor, attempting to force an entrance to the 
milky way, where the famous warriors had found a 
haven. 

So Momone began her story, at first in simple lan- 
guage; then, by degrees, as she launched into her 
subject, with increasing eloquence and richness of 
imagination. 

“Infinitely wide stretched the hunting grounds of 
the independent forest-dwellers, and Manitou, the 
mighty God, looked down with pride and affection 
upon his children. 

To them was freely given every four-footed beast; 
all fowls of the air were theirs; innumerable fish in 
the lakes, — seeming to invite the angler — all belonged 
to the proud masters of the earth. 

Manitou, the great Father of all living, sent down 


8 4 


A Tale of the Pequot War. 


rain and sunshine, and with a loud voice bade the four 
winds of heaven blow and cause the trees to shoot 
forth. 

He retained nothing for himself but his favorite 
bird, the downy, fleet-winged white swan that must 
never feel the hunter’s sharp-pointed arrow. 

Many brave tribes lived on the shore of the great 
water, but the most expert huntsmen were found 
among the Ojibways. Here, again of those who 
excelled in the use of the bow were the three eagle- 
eyed sons of Medas, and none of their comrades were 
able to equal them in dexterity. The hand and eye 
were sure, the bow flexible and the deadly arrow-head 
of stone went ever unerringly to the mark. 

Deer and bear, bison, beaver and fish — the eagle, 
heron, pelican and wild goose the three brothers 
brought to the wigwam for use as food, raiment and 
ornament. 

The youngest brother was the favorite and adjudged 
the best huntsman. 

He never returned home emply-handed, without a 
bird of some sort — for each provided the wigwam 
with a different kind of game — and Segwun (as he 
was called) killed only wild-fowl. No other quarry 
had cause to fly from him. 

Now, on one occasion a wager was laid as to who 


A Tale of the Pequot War. 85 

should bring in the best result of a day’s sport, and 
young Segwun, with a radiant face, started off and 
penetrated deep into the dusky pine-forest, confident 
of success. 

On his shoulder he carried his bow, and on his hip 
was a quiver filled with arrows, and to the reedy places, 
where he knew the water-fowl built their nests, the 
stalwart youth turned his steps. 

However, he wandered long and his search was 
fruitless. The sun was sending slanting rays over 
wood and meadow when, suddenly, before Segwun 
gleams the smooth mirror-like surface of a lake. 

'Ah/ he exclaims joyfully, 'here, at last, I shall 
find game!’ — but, in vain he looks about — nothing 
stirs among the reeds and bushes. 

Provoked, and almost in despair, Segwun is on the 
point of giving up his quest when, hark! a whirring 
sound is in the air. Quickly his bow is raised, and 
with sparkling, triumphant eye he aims his arrow to 
the East whence comes the noise. At the edge of the 
dark wood something dazzlingly white alights on the 
ground. What is it? Disappointment and discontent 
are expressed in Segwun’s eagle-eye as he relaxes his 
hold on the bow-string. A white swan's plumage 
glistens against the green. Manitou’s property is 
sacred — no target for Segwun’s arrow. 


86 


A Tale of the Pequot War. 


Must it be that he, the lucky sportsman, shall return 
home empty-handed? Never shall it be! He grasps 
his bow and arrow, and prepares to shoot, with evil 
intent — but the bird has disappeared, and in its stead 
the cunning eyes of a bear are fixed upon him. ‘One 
kind of game is as good as another !’ shouts Segwun, 
and lets fly an arrow that strikes in the forehead the 
unsuspecting brown bear. 

‘Ha ! thou cowardly, lazy brown creature ! thinkest 
thou Segwun is no huntsman — an idler and a trifling 
fellow. Cease thy groaning and thy howling. Be a 
bear and not a coward ! But I will surely have thy skin 
to rest upon when weary!’ and his long, broad knife 
gleams before the unfortunate animal — that had 
already received its death blow — inflicting a rapid cut 
across the throat. A groan, a rattle, and the bear lies 
lifeless. 

‘Ha! now I have a trophy — Segwun need not be 
ashamed !’ 

However, something has happened to him. Perhaps 
a drop of the bear’s blood has entered his eye that the 
atmosphere seems dyed so red? And whence that 
mournful singing? Wildly, and as if in a dream, 
Segwun rubs and strokes his eye — but the red will not 
whiten, nor the singing cease. 

Behold the Swan, the Red Swan! Singing mourn- 
fully, it flies to the lake, and alighting on the dark 


A Tale of the Pequot War. 87 

smooth mirror swims majestically toward the West, 
where sinks the sun on his way to Manitou. 

The hunter hurries down to the shore and yielding 
to passion, — unheeding the voice of conscience — sends 
another arrow whizzing through the air. 

Louder comes the sound of lamentation over the 
water ; but the Swan, uninjured, its feathers glistening 
in the sunlight, bends down its slender neck, stirring 
the calm surface of the water into a circle of ripples 
that seem dyed with blood. 

Shaft after shaft are sent, but in vain! Invulner- 
able appears the wonderful bird! 

Full of wrath and resentment, Segwun seizes his 
last remaining arrow. The bear, the wager and the 
voice of conscience alike are forgotten, only the frantic 
desire to kill the swan remains uppermost in his mind. 

Now his arrows are spent and he homeward wends 
his way. Silence reigns in the wigwam, for it is still 
daylight and the evening star — signal of the brothers' 
return — is not yet visible. Segwun, heretofore most 
scrupulous concerning what his revered father’s hand 
had touched, now grasps without awe or veneration 
the coffer containing three magic arrows. 

‘Ha! here I find you — the sacred power imparted 
to you by my father will procure me the bird. Rare 
game well suited to your rare fame.’ 

Waving them high above his head the fool hastens 


88 


A Tale of the Pequot War. 


away — regardless of his foot touching the sacred 
casket as it falls — like any trifle — from his hands. 

Quite out of breath he reaches the shore and there 
sees the bird of Manitou still gliding softly o’er the 
water. Not a zephyr stirs, and the sun’s reflection 
makes a wide fiery track. The ball of fire, like the 
great eye of Manitou, stern judge, seems to look 
angrily and threateningly at the trembling youth, but 
the Swan again begins to sing and wakes anew the 
evil passion in Segwun’s bosom. 

From the loosened bow-string an arrow flies to miss 
the mark, — but now, more calmly, Segwun again 
stretches the bow and lets fly what he believes to be 
certain death. 

Once more he is doomed to disappointment — and 
proudly sails the noble bird over the flaming flood. 
Due West its slender neck is turned — toward the red 
sun majestically steering its course. 

With fond illusion Segwun grasps his third and 
last arrow, saying: ‘Thou shalt be mine, though it 
cost me my life !’ 

The last messenger leaves the bow-string and whiz- 
zing through the air reaches the bird and is fastened 
in its breast ! 

A moan escapes the pierced bird, and Segwun 
amazed, his blood almost congealed, sees it rise! At 


A Tale of the Pequot War. 


89 


first with heavy, weary wings, soaring slowly higher 
and higher, now in the rosy glow it continues its 
flight steadily toward the setting sun. 

Thus, victorious over the poisoned arrow, the Swan 
flew to Manitou and received new life from his power- 
ful heart.” 

“That was a beautiful story and how prettily you 
told it — but, dear ’Mone, tell me what became of the 
wicked Segwun?” David enquired as the girl looked 
dreamily into the fire. 

“Segwun never returned to his father’s wigwam 
and no one ever heard of him again. However, in 
the lake one day, his brothers found a young ash-tree, 
the thick-leaved branches of which were ruthlessly 
broken and the brown bark of the trunk split from top 
to bottom, showing a gaping wound, long and broad, 
and the redmen say that Manitou, in wrath, had 
caused Segwun thus to be metamorphosed, and to 
punish him for his evil deeds had struck the tree with 
lightning. It never budded again and on fine sum- 
mer days the men of his tribe often heard groans 
issuing from this tree, where Segwun’s spirit was 
confined.” 

Such was the conclusion of the legend as told by the 
young narrator. 

Some time previously the group before the fire had 


9 o 


A Tale of the Pequot War. 


been joined by Mr. Gardiner, who had also been 
an attentive listener to the poetical tale. Now he 
approached the little maiden and falling into her fig- 
urative mode of speech, said : “Soon shall stern Win- 
ter succumb to the gentle breath of his youngest born 
child. Warm showers will wrest from him the domin- 
ion in favor of Spring. Then Wyandanch, the Forest 
Prince , shall again see his daughter, who will return to 
her father’s wigwam as the Red Swan returned to 
Manitou. But how we shall miss our dear little 
Forest Bird and her sweet voice ! David will mourn 
the loss of his Indian sister — and Momone, I am sure, 
will not forget him, though far away from her white 
friends across the water.” 

Gardiner had scarcely ever expressed himself with 
so much feeling to his adopted daughter. Evidently 
moved by this demonstration of affection Momone 
grasped, with a passionate gesture, the hands of her 
mistress and pressing them to her breast, whispered: 
“Momone’s heart is laid bare before her white friends, 
revealing only pure love and gratitude.” 

“I know it, my daughter, I know that you possess 
a frank and honorable soul,” replied Mary, with 
emotion, as she embraced the girl, and David, too, had 
to put in his claim for attention. First running 


A Tale of the Pequot War. 91 

impetuously to his mother, he then turned to throw his 
arms about the little Indian. 

“Come now, that’s enough, Davy ; you will hug our 
Momone to death,” said Gardiner. “Here, old 
Amigo, get up ! Let’s see what the mistress has pre- 
pared for our good appetites. Ah ! there comes 
Colet now with the dishes. You smell something good 
already, don’t you, old fellow ?” 

So chatting gaily and joking they all sat down to 
table after David, being the youngest, had said grace. 
In this house it was not only customary, but a neces- 
sity, to invoke our Lord’s protection and blessing on 
every occasion and to return thanks for all gifts. 


CHAPTER VII. 


“Here, Mary dear, I am bringing you an unexpected 
but very welcome guest.” With these words Gardiner 
one day ushered into the presence of his wife — who 
was busied in laying the table-cloth — a distinguished 
looking man in military dress. 

“Colonel Fenwick, who arrived a few months ago 
from England, brings us a message from there and 
greetings from Boston's leading men !” continued 
Lion, introducing him. 

“Before taking up this business matter, Colonel, 
will you not share our modest meal ? My wife invites 
you to partake of whatever our house in the wilder- 
ness affords. After a glass of good wine we shall be 
in a better mood for discussion, and even complicated 
affairs will be likely to assume a clearer aspect. Come 
in, my boy!” he called to little David, who after 
appearing suddenly at the door, seemed about to 
retreat on catching sight of the imposing stranger. 

“Is that indeed your little son, noble lady, who 
caused you so much anxiety, and who was preserved 
through God’s providence? Come here, my young 
hero, and listen to what I have to say of your old 
friend, Captain Mason. He told me a great deal about 


A Tale of the Pequot War . 


93 


you, of how bravely you behaved with the Pequots, 
and that he hoped you would not forget him/’ 

“Why didn’t he come, himself?” enquired David 
with a joyous look of recollection in his eyes at the 
mention of Captain Mason. 

“My boy, a soldier cannot do what he likes. Obedi- 
ence is his first duty, and Captain Mason is a good 
soldier. Shouldn’t you like to be as brave a one some 
day ?” 

“No, Davy wants to stay with ’Mone, and go hunt- 
ing bear and deer in the woods, and listen to nice 
stories.” 

A hearty good-natured laugh was Colonel Fenwick’s 
response. Then, turning to Gardiner, he said : “What 
is become of the tamed little Wild Cat that so 
^ thoroughly won Mason’s old heart ? She probably ran 
away after plotting some mischief. The Indians are 
a bad, deceitful lot !” 

“Doubtless a great many of them deserve no milder 
judgment, but surely not all. No, Colonel, I cannot 
agree with you there. Wait until you see our 
little girl — our Forest Bird. When you know what 
Momone has been to us you will have to confess that 
she is of noble stock and capable of every virtue. 
Ah ! here she comes now — our ’Mone, as my boy calls 


94 


A Tale of the Pequot War. 


her. Come here, my daughter, and see a white brother 
of mine! He brings a message and a greeting to 
Captain Mason’s gay Forest Bird!” 

Momone came forward without a sign of embarrass- 
ment, but with a modest and dignified demeanor, giv- 
ing her right hand to the smiling Colonel, and at the 
same time placing her left on her breast. 

“You may be assured, little Forest Princess, that the 
gallant Captain has not forgotten his fellow-traveller 
from whom he stole so many kisses on the ride from 
the banks of the Mystic to those of the Connecticut! 
He wished to be particularly remembered, begging her, 
on her part, not to forget him.” 

“Momone never forgets those who do her good or 
evil!” There was a peculiar charm — a mixture of 
childish defiance and womanly dignity — in her reply 
to Fenwick’s jocose speech. He afterwards, at table,'* 
said in a whisper to Gardiner: “By Jove! you are 
right. The little one appears to be a noble scion of a 
wild stock.” ' 

The midday meal, to which a few savory dishes, 
hastily prepared by the clever housewife, had been 
added, was partaken of in high good humor, Gardiner 
drinking his guest’s health with true old English 
courtesy. 

After the repast, the two men, as Gardiner had fore- 


A Tale of the Pequot War. 


95 


seen, found themselves in conversation becoming more 
at ease and consequently better qualified to discuss 
matters. 

“You may well believe, Colonel, that it has been no 
trifling thing for me to struggle through one winter 
after another in the forsaken condition in which I am 
placed. A stranger knocking at our door would be 
a welcome guest. Such an event has seldom occurred. 
With the exception of the brief visits accorded us by 
Mr. Winthrop and Captain Mason our eyes have not 
beheld the face of a white man. Redskins indeed have 
visited us all the more diligently, but to them our hos- 
pitality took the form of bullets sent in exchange for 
their sharp arrows.” 

“Have the murderous Pequots at last ceased to 
trouble you?” enquired Fenwick. 

“We are rid of them forever, but there are the 
Narragansetts, with their plotting sachem Mian- 
tonomoh, whose promise of peace I put no faith in. 
However, a different opinion appears to be held in 
Boston, where the citizens have concluded a treaty 
with the plausible chieftain and have his warriors 
under thorough surveillance. My experiences count 
for nothing there ! They continue to live quietly 
behind their walls while out here we are obliged to 
bear, unsupported, the consequences of the war. But 


9 6 


A Tale of the Pequot War . 


enough of the old story ! Tell me, dear Colonel, what 
news you have brought me from the lords in England. 
May I finally hope for the fulfilment of the contract 
and look for their personal appearance here ?” 

“How glad I should be, Lieutenant, could I be the 
means of communicating good news to you — but, to 
my sorrow, for the present, I can only beg you not to 
lose patience and confidence,” was Colonel Fenwick’s 
reply. 

“Have these noblemen then no longer any intention 
of coming over?” enquired Gardiner with suppressed 
emotion. 

“The lords were about to set sail when they were 
forbidden, by command of His Britannic Majesty, and 
what could his loyal subjects do but obey? However, 
they sent me to inform you that they are mindful of 
their promise to you and hope to keep it.” 

“To keep it!” repeated Gardiner laughing loud and 
bitterly. “It appears to me high time for the gentle- 
men to keep their promise. Next autumn the term of 
my contract will expire, and” — he continued indig- 
nantly — “I do not purpose being detained here by 
false promises !” 

“Let us hope it will not come to that, Lieutenant, 
for the Commissioners in Boston have declared them- 
selves ready to furnish you with every reasonable 


A Tale of the Pequot War. 


97 


comfort and means to make the fort strong and habit- 
able. Governor Winthrop sends his regards and a 
special message that you will not fail to apprise him 
of your requirements.” 

Gardiner, however, was evidently so annoyed and 
disappointed that Fenwick’s civilities made no impres- 
sion upon him. Having brought the conversation to 
an end he rose and invited his guest to an inspection 
of the defenses. 

The proposition met with a ready acceptance, and 
the two officers, forgetting their differences, were 
soon deep in a spirited technical discussion. Walls 
and trenches were found to be in perfect order, as 
well as the stockade, and in the course of his examina- 
tion of the Lieutenant’s extensive operations the 
Colonel expressed himself in flattering terms of the 
work accomplished. 

Chatting pleasantly they then strolled toward the 
river. The sun had set and it was growing dark 
when Gardiner suddenly stood still: “Did you not 
hear something, Colonel? Let us walk down to the 
river’s bank. It seemed to me that I heard the splash 
of an oar and I want to see if I am mistaken.” 

Silently and cautiously the two men followed the 
path leading through brushwood directly to the swift- 
flowing Connecticut. At a low-spoken word from 


7 


9 8 


A Tale of the Peqaot War. 


Gardiner, Fenwick paused before a gap in the bushes 
presenting an unobstructed view of the whole breadth 
of the river. One could hear distinctly the sound of 
lapping waves mingled with the regular dip of an oar, 
or paddle. 

“Lie low, Colonel,” whispered Gardiner, “it is com- 
ing nearer and we must not be seen.” 

“Ah!” escaped Fenwick’s lips, involuntarily, as he 
saw — despite the considerable distance and rapidly 
descending darkness — a boat, slender, and gliding 
swiftly. Strangely enough it was approaching, in a 
direct line, the exact spot on the bank where crouched 
the two listeners. By a stroke of the paddle, the canoe, 
with a grating sound, was brought up on the pebbly 
shore, and a figure stepped out. 

In breathless silence the two observers took note of 
the man’s every motion. They could see him — of a 
tall, athletic build — occupied with the canoe, and could 
hear him dragging it up into the bushes. This sound 
served them well, for they both took advantage of it 
to throw themselves flat upon the ground, seeking the 
aid of the thick network of branches for concealment 
of their persons. 

With no small degree of anxiety they continued to 
listen — glad of the enveloping darkness, — and soon, 
with a crackling noise, like the breaking of dry twigs, 


A Tale of the Pequot War. 


99 


the tall figure of the Indian emerged, stepping cau- 
tiously along the pathway previously trodden by Gar- 
diner and Fenwick. 

“Not a Pequot !” whispered Gardiner to the Colonel 
when the Indian had passed out of earshot. 

“Not a Narragansett,” replied Fenwick in an 
equally guarded voice. 

They both remained quiet for a while. Then Gar- 
diner, incredulous, murmured: “One, quite alone ?” 

“Let us wait/' suggested Fenwick, “it is likely there 
are other red rascals coming.” 

They waited some time and there was nothing 
further to be heard or seen — except that the moon had 
now made her appearance, hanging, like a sickle, in 
the dark, starless sky. After a short debate they 
decided to return to Saybrook. 

“We may overtake the fellow on the road,” said 
Gardiner. 

“So much the better for us — and so much the worse 
for him,” rejoined Fenwick. 

Notwithstanding all their watching and waiting, 
however, they reached the fort without encountering 
anything suspicious, but just as Gardiner entered 
through the gateway in the stockade Morton hurried 
to meet him. 

“God be praised you are come, Lieutenant! We 


IOO 


A Tale of the Pequot War. 


were getting anxious about you, for Dick and Tom, 
whose young restless blood took them outside the 
trenches, came back with a very grand-looking, warlike 
redskin!” he said excitedly. 

“So the bird is already in the net!” exclaimed the 
Colonel. 

“Where have you put the boy? Take us to him,” 
said Gardiner. — “Are you, perhaps, interested in our 
bold boatman?” he continued, turning politely to his 
guest. 

“I shall be charmed to make his acquaintance and, 
at the same time, we can hold a court-martial over 
the sly, thieving fellow.” 

Colonel Fenwick appeared to view the matter in a 
different light from Gardiner ; regarding it as an amus- 
ing incident of his visit at Saybrook, while Gardiner, 
being well acquainted with the ways of Indians, 
doubted the man having come alone, — though no trace 
of other redskins had been detected, — and could not 
but consider the possibility it might have of serious 
import. 

Surrounded by the men of the garrison, who were 
laughing and jeering — merry Dick and rough Tom 
being not the least conspicuous among them, — the 
Indian lay bound on the ground, silent and motionless 


A Tale of the Pequot War. ioi 

despite the mockery and teasing of his keepers. Gar- 
diner’s brow gathered in displeasure at the sight. 

“Are you men ? Are you soldiers ? Cracking jokes 
at a prisoner! Tormenting a defenceless man! Fie 
upon you ! Here, you Dick ! Unloose him at once, 
for you don’t even know whether he is an enemy or 
has stolen anything belonging to you?” 

Gardiner looked enquiringly from one to the other, 
while Dick, in a somewhat defiant, though shamefaced 
manner, began to do his master’s bidding. 

“Be not too rash, Lieutenant, nor too compassion- 
ate in disposing of this fellow. Of course he is an 
enemy. These thieving creatures are collectively our 
enemies !” 

“Pardon me, Colonel, if I insist on the execution of 
my order. So long as the man has not proved himself 
hostile I have no right to treat him as such. To me 
the rights of a human being are sacred and this Indian 
is as much entitled to them as we are. Pardon me 
again.” 

Gardiner spoke with politeness and decision. Tak- 
ing the knife from Dick’s hand he, himself, hastily cut 
away the fetters from the prisoner, who was tightly 
bound. 

Once released, he leaped to his feet, and stood, with 


102 


A Tale of the Pequot War. 


quiet self-possession, before Gardiner, at the same time 
pointing to his hip, devoid of weapons. 

“The man has not even his scalping knife — a sign 
of peaceful intentions,” remarked the Lieutenant turn- 
ing to the Colonel. 

“If no trick it makes it easier to find out his inten- 
tions and those of his associates. We shall soon dis- 
cover who his associates are. But to what tribe might 
the youth belong?” enquired Fenwick, thus giving 
another turn to the conversation. 

Gardiner observed with attention the silent Indian 
before him. Of a strikingly large and muscular 
physique, his broad shoulders appeared broader with 
the black skin thrown over them. From his medium- 
sized head hung thick strands of black hair, and his 
face, unlike the Pequots, was but slightly painted, and 
in subdued colors, quite different from the frightful 
make-up of those wild warriors. A prominent, well- 
chiselled nose gave to his sharp intelligent eyes a look 
of penetration and almost of distinction. 

“Will my brother speak and tell his white friends 
what brought him to Saybrook? May no mistrust 
lodge in his heart! These white men thought to do 
their duty in laying hands on the brave warrior, but 
he is now free, and may open his heart without fear 
or reserve.” 


A Tale of the Pequot War. 103 

Thus Gardiner addressed the serious-looking Indian, 
and his kind, manly speech had its effect. 

“Opechee has no fear of white faces and nothing to 
conceal from them. He doesn’t want their scalps ! 
Opechee crossed the water for love of his friend and 
brother, Wyandanch.” 

“Wyandanch !” exclaimed Gardiner, interrupting 
the slow, painstaking speech of Opechee. “If Sachem 
Wyandanch is your chief, then indeed is my brother 
more welcome than any king! Does Opechee know 
Momone, the pretty Forest Bird?” 

“Momone is the delight and the balm of the Mon- 
tauk tribe! Opechee knows the star of our forests 
as he knows his own face ! It was for her that he 
left the fire-glow of his wigwam and started out in 
the winter night when he heard the Forest Flower was 
fading in the camp of the palefaces 

“If my brother would, by his own eyes, be convinced 
that the Forest Flower is not fading ; that the daughter 
of Wyandanch has not been harmed by her friends, 
the palefaces, let him come with me!” said Gardiner. 

Colonel Fenwick had listened with great interest to 
the conversation and every trace of incredulity had 
vanished when he said: “Yes, let Opechee follow his 
white brother and see the great sachem’s daughter in 
the home-circle of her faithful guardian — then can 


104 A Tale of the Pequot War. 

Opechee see how beloved she is, and how well cared 
for!” 

********* 

In the living-room of the blockhouse were seated, as 
‘'usual, at this hour, the happy trio with Amigo as a 
fourth link in the bond of union. 

David and Momone were nestled close to Mary, 
listening with great interest and sympathy to the story 
of blind old Tobit — his wonderful cure — and the way 
in which his son was led home by an angel. 

“Angels do not care for the red children of Manitou. 
They will never guide poor Momone to her father’s 
wigwam !” 

Contrary to her ordinary self-control the little Indian 
maid burst into tears ; her fortitude seemed completely 
overcome by hopeless depression. Clasping his Indian 
sister tenderly in his arms, Davy kissed her, saying: 
“Don’t cry, dear ’Mone ! I shall pray my guardian 
angel to protect you and I am sure he will hear me 
and lead you at last to your father. Davy will do any- 
thing for you if you will only cease to weep.” 

Mistress Gardiner also endeavoured, with soothing 
words, to console the sobbing child until, at last, she 
dried her tears, and kneeling before her kind friend, 
threw both her little arms about her neck. 


A Tale of the Pequot War. 105 

“Has my daughter forgotton,” said Mary, “that 
our Heavenly Father watches with the same loving 
care over His red children as He does over His white 
children? Momone also has a guardian angel who 
will lead her to her father when the proper time 
comes. Will my daughter not believe what her white 
friend says? Should Momone despair when not a 
bird falls from the trees without the will of God?” 

The affection and sympathy of Mary and her con- 
vincing tone of voice made an impression on the child's 
heart, where hope and confidence took the place of 
doubt. 

“Momone believes your kind words ; she loves you 
and will willingly wait until the angel comes,” she 
replied with humility. 

It was indeed an affecting scene — these three 
human beings so united in love for one another ! 
David sat on a stool and leaned back against his 
mother emulating Momone in demonstrations of 
affection, so that Amigo, jealous, had risen and put 
in his claim by placing his beautiful head on the lap 
of his mistress. 

At that moment the door opened and Fenwick 
entered, followed by Gardiner and the Indian. 

“Remain as you are, noble lady, and do not dis- 
turb the charming picture ! Your husband brings 


106 A Tale of the Pequot War. 

a visitor who could find no more eloquent proof in 
answer to his question than the sight of you all in 
such unison !” 

“Here, Opechee, my brother — ” 

But Gardiner did not finish the sentence, for 
scarcely had Momone heard the name, than she turned 
and, quick as a flash, sprang toward the Indian, who 
was standing in silence. There was a loud cry of joy 
and then followed words in the soft dialect of the 
Paumanack tribe. 

Beaming with satisfaction, Opechee looked upon 
his respected young mistress, and she, proud of her 
father’s envoy, led him to her protectress. Taking 
David by the hand, she kissed him, saying : “See here, 
Opechee, this is David, my dear, white brother — the 
sun of my life when a prisoner among the wicked 
Pequots !” 

“Now will my daughter believe in her guardian 
angel?” enquired Mistress Gardiner in a voice full 
of emotion. A hearty embrace was the answer. 

Opechee then informed them with the assistance 
of Momone — who was more familiar with the English 
tongue — how some time previously a Narragansett 
warrior had come to Montauk with the information 
that the Paleface of the Pequot war was keeping 
imprisoned a young Indian maid. This much he 


A Tale of the Pequot War. 107 

knew — that the girl was in Saybrook. Wyandanch 
supposed it might be his daughter, of whom the 
Pequots had robbed him, and sent Opechee, his friend 
and subject, to investigate the matter and to offer a 
ransom. Opechee was overjoyed at the happy ter- 
mination of his perilous and difficult mission, the 
Narragansett Indian having described the English 
paleface as a hard and covetous man. 

The evening was a delightful one for all, — happiness 
reigned supreme — only now and again the thought of 
losing his playmate caused a shadow to flit across 
David’s usually merry eyes, but Momone sought with 
a greater demonstration of affection to make him for- 
get the separation that lay before them both. In a 
measure she succeeded in the attempt, for a child 
possesses the faculty of being able to give himself 
wholly to the joy of the moment, while, on the other 
hand, a grown person having become apprehensive 
through pain or grief, will, frequently, by dwelling 
on the past or planning for the future, allow the 
present time to pass without pleasure. 

Moreover the separation was not so imminent, — 
Opechee sharing Gardiner’s opinion as to the inad- 
visability of crossing the water so early in the year. 
His own trip had made him sufficiently acquainted 
with its hardships and he was obliged to admit that 


108 A Tale of the Pequot War. 

such a voyage with Momone should not be undertaken. 
Gardiner also told him that he had promised Momone 
to take her himself, to her father, and wished to keep 
his word, but this was, at present, impossible of accom- 
plishment on account of the visitor who was staying 
with him. 

It was thus decided to await the coming of a milder 
season. Meanwhile the children enjoyed the first days 
of spring with lively games and pleasant rambles, 
Opechee being invariably their companion in all their 
amusements, whether in the blockhouse or in the 
woods, where he was as faithful and watchful as old 
Amigo. The pleasantest time, however, was the even- 
ing when Opechee told his delightful tales. Not only 
the children, but Gardiner and his wife enjoyed hear- 
ing these poetical legends, and so, at Saybrook, both 
young and old spent the days in useful and happy 
employment and the evenings in lively conversation. 

By becoming very sociable with Opechee Tom and 
Dick caused him to forget their former animosity, and 
peace and harmony reigned among them all. Once in 
a while, after a long conference with Colonel Fenwick, 
Gardiner wore his former serious expression, but 
when, one fine spring day, the guest took his departure, 
those wrinkles, so disquieting to Mary, also disap- 
peared, and the look of quiet serenity returned. 


CHAPTER VIII. 


The difficult parting was over and the warm May 
sunshine had dried the last traces of tears upon 
Momone’s cheeks. Indeed the blue sky and dancing 
waves had even succeeded in arousing ecstatic feel- 
ings in the Indian girl's heart. For several days the 
travellers had been journeying toward Montauk, stop- 
ping now and again at islands inviting a long or short 
repose, and as they constantly came across people 
of Opechee’s tribe they received always a hearty 
welcome. The heaving waste of waters counted many 
of these islands on its bosom. One beautiful world 
after another seemed to rise before Gardiner's eyes 
and made him — who was weary of warfare and had so 
often met with deception — sigh for a quiet, sequestered 
home. On Colonel Fenwick’s departure the disagree- 
able business discussion had been renewed for the last 
time, Gardiner feeling convinced that nothing further 
could be expected from the noblemen in far-away 
England — nor could he hope for assistance from the 
rulers in Boston, these gentlemen having, apparently, 
so much else to engage their attention. Although he 
had left his family in perfect security at Saybrook his 
mind was restless and filled with unspoken desires, — 
but the breath of spring and the beauty and peace of 


no 


A Tale of the Peqaot War. 


nature at length prevailed in exercising a soothing 
influence upon him, inspiring an idea, the realization 
of which, if agreeable to his wife, would be an easy 
matter. 

What bliss to make one of these quiet wooded isles 
his residence ! The thought took on a more tangible 
shape as Gardiner continued moving in an easterly 
direction toward the territory belonging to the great 
Sachem Wyandanch. 

Finally, one morning, they approached their destina- 
tion and saw stretched far out into the sea Montauk 
Point, around which hovered, with shrill cries, innu- 
merable gulls. 

As she stepped upon her native soil, Momone 
shouted with delight, and then, in silent thanksgiving 
spread out both hands toward the sun — the eye of 
Manitou — while Opechee, in quiet reverence, stood by 
her side, until she slowly let fall her arms. Gardiner 
looked with emotion upon his little ward. 

After a short walk they arrived at the abode of 
Wyandanch, the ruler of all the Indian tribes on 
Long Island. It was a very imposing settlement with 
rows of wigwams, where squaws were engaged with 
domestic duties and children were playing about. The 
women had no sooner spied Opechee than they sur- 
rounded him with loud exclamations, but a word from 


A Tale of the Pequot War . 


hi 


him sufficed to put them all to flight like a flock of 
magpies. The warriors came forth from the huts 
to greet Opechee and to view the Paleface whose 
hand their Forest Flower held as she walked beside 
him fresh and blooming. With every step that took 
her nearer her father’s wigwam, Momone’s heart 
beat with increasing excitement. She scarcely was 
conscious of going forward; her movements seemed 
mechanical owing to the emotion that overpowered her 
mental faculties. Finally she found herself clasped 
in her father’s arms ! Wyandanch pressed his long 
lost daughter — the “Light of his Eyes ” — tenderly to 
his breast and for a long time held her thus, while the 
tears — so seldom seen on an Indian’s face — ran down 
his cheeks. 

“My father may welcome here his brother — Mo- 
mone’s white father — to whom she owes her life and 
liberty !” So saying she took the hand of Gardiner — 
who was looking on, greatly affected by the meeting — 
and led him respectfully to the chief. 

“May the Great Spirit love my brother as Wyan- 
danch loves him! If his lips but mention his heart’s 
desire he shall have it, though it be bought at the 
sacrifice of Wyandanch’s life. That life no longer 
belongs to Wyandanch. He owes it to his child’s 
protector !” 


1 12 A Tale of the Pequot War. 

At the conclusion of this speech the Sachem (before 
his subjects, who had come flocking out) embraced 
Gardiner in silence, laying his left cheek against that 
of his guest, whose hand he grasped, and then declared 
in a loud commanding voice : “Wyandanch, before all 
his warriors, pledges his own life and theirs to their 
white friend , whose word, like the word of their 
Sachem Wyandanch, shall be law to the red men !” 

The tribesmen now eagerly gathered about Gardiner, 
bidding him welcome with a hand-clasp, and then 
came the women and children. The latter were filled 
with wonder and curiosity at the sight of the Paleface , 
jumping about him like so many puppies until, at 
length, they were driven away by Wyandanch. Mo- 
mone had eyes for no one but the father whom she 
adored, and followed close at his heels wherever he 
went. 

The Indians, — like ourselves at the present day, — 
were accustomed to celebrate a joyful event, such as 
the arrival of a guest, with a feast, so Wyandanch took 
his white friend’s arm and escorted him to the dwell- 
ing, where preparations were being made. On the 
smooth-trodden ground of the tent-shaped clay struc- 
ture that was covered with bark, a fire burned, and 
over it hung a boiling pot attached to a bar of wood. 
Directly in front of the fire-place were laid two cun- 


A Tale of the Pequot War. 113 

ningly wrought hides — one for the guest and the other 
for the Sachem. Beside them were placed polished 
wooden bowls with horn spoons for the use of the 
guest, as he alone, according to Indian hospitality, 
should first partake of the meal. Wyandanch waited 
upon him in person, selecting the daintiest morsels 
and refilling the wooden cup, each time it was drained, 
with birch beer. 

In the background were grouped the most distin- 
guished warriors, among whom was Opechee, awaiting 
in respectful silence the conclusion of the meal, the 
remains of which — in this case the greater portion of 
the contents of the kettle — fell to their share. The 
repast over, Opechee stepped forward with an enor- 
mous pipe, or calumet, fantastically adorned with 
feathers, and handed it to Wyandanch. The chief 
receiving the pipe in his right hand, indicated with 
the stem the four points of the compass, and then 
holding it up toward the sun took a long puff, blowing 
the smoke through the open door of the wigwam. 
Having thus done homage to Manitou, Wyandanch 
handed the pipe to his guest and had another brought 
to himself. 

This was the signal for all the warriors to take part 
in their favorite occupation. 

Then followed an animated conversation — Opechee 


8 


1 14 A Tale of the Pequot War. 

relating his adventures to his companions ; while Gar- 
diner and Wyandanch, — with Momone’s assistance as 
interpreter — were brought nearer, in the exchange of 
opinions, and learned to appreciate each other. 

The love and respect for her white father evinced 
by Momone were the means of bringing Wyandanch 
and his guest closer together than, perhaps, a long 
acquaintance might have done — and Gardiner’s keen 
knowledge of human nature caused him to discover at 
once the fine qualities of his host’s character. 

Yielding to Wyandanch’s pressing invitation Gar- 
diner tarried a whole week in the Indian village — the 
regard he first felt for the Sachem ripening into sincere 
friendship. The parting, however, was inevitable ; 
but it took place with the prospect of a meeting in the 
near future, Gardiner having discussed with Wyan- 
danch the feasibility of settling upon one of the islands 
situated between Long Island and Connecticut, and 
receiving from him a promise to further the project 
by all means at his command. 

The Sachem insisted upon accompanying his visitor 
during a day’s journey. This brought them to an 
island that Wyandanch called Manchonak, signifying: 
a place where many died. The tradition was that 
Manitou, displeased with his red children who were 


A Tale of the Pequot War. 115 

living in discord and perpetual strife, had stricken 
them with an evil death. By evil death , however, the 
Indians meant any disease that carried off the warriors, 
for them it being honorable to die only in combat with 
enemies. 

Whatever epidemic might once have been prevalent 
it mattered not, for to Gardiner the island appeared 
an ideal spot, with lovely views of land and water. 

Thickly wooded hills rose gently above the inter- 
vening green dales. Groups of dark pines, cedars, 
and oaks, — hoary and moss-grown — vied with each 
other in picturesqueness of outline and color. Sweet- 
scented woodbine was festooned from one giant tree 
to another, while birds of many varieties sang and 
carolled among the branches. In strong contrast 
with these soprano notes sounded the plaintive cry of 
the fish-hawk and the croaking crow's deep bass, — and 
through this tangled wildwood could be heard the soft 
murmur of limpid brooks where hither and thither 
darted the agile trout. Peaceful scenes greeted the 
eye on every side. The attentive ear caught no sound 
of discord in this harmonious spot. 

“Is my brother pleased?” enquired Wyandanch 
of Gardiner who was sunk in dreamy contemplation. 

“It seems like the paradise of my dreams ! Here I 


ii 6 A Tale of the Pequot War. 

should like to dwell, far away from strife and war — 
close by my friend and brother/’ was Gardiner’s 
reply. 

“Why should not Wyandanch’s brother have his 
wish? This island belongs to the warriors of the 
Paumanack tribe and Wyandanch is their sachem,” he 
said. 

“What does my brother mean?” Gardiner asked 
eagerly. “Would the Indians be willing to sell their 
land to a white stranger?” 

“Quinnipeg, the chief upon Manchonak, will do as 
Wyandanch desires. Wyandanch would have his 
white brother live in his neighborhood and be happy.” 

Thus the die was cast — Gardiner was to see the ful- 
filment of his heart’s desire much sooner than he 
expected. Negotiations between Wyandanch and 
Quinnipeg were entered into that very day for the 
purchase of the entire island, nine English miles in 
length by two and one-half in breadth, certain articles 
being given in payment for the same. It was agreed 
that the natives should live in liberty thereon, with the 
privilege of fishing and hunting. 

In this connection it may be mentioned that no 
differences occurred between the Indians and the 
white settlers on the island, unusually harmonious 


A Tale of the Pequot War. 117 

relations being maintained between the new masters 
and the old. 

However, let us return to our narrative that is 
drawing to a close. 

Gardiner, after an affectionate leavetaking of his 
friend, returned safely to Saybrook. Here he found 
it necessary to use all his powers of persuasion to 
reconcile Mary to the idea of changing her compara- 
tively agreeable home for such a “God-forsaken 
wilderness !” She was dismayed at the thought of 
living, far away from civilization, among redskins, — 
but Gardiner described in such glowing terms the 
high character of Wyandanch and the superiority of 
his tribe that, by degrees, her apprehension in regard 
to Momone’s people diminished. 

When midsummer with its beauty and brilliant 
sunny days had come, Gardiner resigned his com- 
mand in favor of Colonel Fenwick, who now took com- 
mand of Saybrook in its ameliorated condition. He 
was accompanied by his noble wife, Lady Fenwick, 
who had crossed the sea to share his fortunes. 

Gardiner then, with his family, set out for Man- 
chonak. Beside the faithful Colet, they were accom- 


n8 A Tale of the Pequot War. 

panied by their experienced man, Morton, adventurous 
Dick and honest Tom — all devoted heart and soul to 
master and mistress. These honest people Gardiner 
had gladly retained in his service, and Mary's mind 
was relieved with the thought of having three such 
trustworthy men about the house in that “dreadful 
wilderness." 

David's delight was boundless in anticipation of 
again seeing Momone, for his mother and he were to 
remain on Montauk as Wyandanch’s guests until Gar- 
diner had prepared for them a home. 

No princess could have been received with greater 
reverence than was shown Mary by the Grand Sachem 
and his tribe. They were unremitting in their efforts 
to please the beautiful paleface. 

A period of carefree happiness began again for 
David and Momone — Opechee resuming, with Amigo, 
his office of guard and companion — and Mary no 
longer shrank from her tawny hosts, her former dread 
of them having entirely vanished. Like her husband 
she returned with sincere friendship the Sachem’s pro- 
found respect, and the leaves had turned to red and 
yellow when, finally, Gardiner took her to her new 
home, escorted by the noble Wyandanch. Hanging 
like an aureola above house and landscape the sun 
bathed all in a golden light that augured well for the 


A Tale of the Pequot War. 119 

future — and what the mellow autumn day appeared to 
foretell was later fulfilled, for God blessed the suc- 
ceeding years with peace and prosperity. 

Friendly relations continued to exist between the 
residents of the Isle of Wight , as it was called by Gar- 
diner, and the inhabitants of Montauk. Visits were 
constantly interchanged. Sometimes David went to 
see Momone, and sometimes she came over to the 
island — Gardiner and Wyandanch becoming firmer 
friends than ever. Never has history recorded a 
closer union of Indians and Whites than that of these 
two high-minded and generous men. 

Not only Gardiner, but all the English colonists in 
Massachusetts and Connecticut enjoyed the benefit of 
the great Sachem’s partiality. 

The oily-tongued treacherous chief of the Narra- 
gansetts, Miantonomoh, having come to Wyandanch 
and with fluent, flattering speech requesting his aid as 
an ally to war against “white men in general ” 
Wyandanch advised his friend of the plot, which infor- 
mation Gardiner immediately imparted to the endan- 
gered colonists, and thus Miantonomoh’s plans were 
frustrated. Miantonomoh, however, received just 
punishment for his treachery. Having been taken 
prisoner his attempt to exonerate himself with lies 
availed him nothing, for he met with a traitor’s death, 


120 


A Tale of the Pequot War. 


before the eyes of his judges, at the hand of a Pequot 
warrior. When afterwards his successor, thinking to 
lead an assault upon the colonists in a similar manner, 
despatched a messenger to Wyandanch on a like mis- 
sion, offering a rich compensation in return for his 
alliance, the Monarch of Montauk remained true to 
his principles, and seized the bearer of the message 
whom he sent bound to Gardiner. The latter had the 
prisoner placed on board a ship sailing for New 
Haven, but in the course of the voyage the vessel was 
driven by storm upon an island, and though the 
prisoner was thus enabled to make his escape the dan- 
ger to the colonies had again been averted. 

Once it was Gardiner who did his friend a good 
turn. A woman having been murdered by Indians in 
the town of Southampton the magistrates feared a 
general massacre and sent for the Sachem of Montauk. 
All his warriors protested against his going, lest the 
whites should avenge themselves upon their sachem. 
Gardiner, however, being at hand, said: “My brother 
need not hesitate to go — I pledge my own life to the 
tribe for his safety.” Thereupon Wyandanch, follow- 
ing the advice of his friend, hastened, at once, to 
Southampton, seizing the real murderers on the way. 
These proved to be Pequots instead of his own people 
as had been suspected. 


A Tale of the Pequot War. 


121 


Both men thus demonstrated their esteem for each 
other, maintaining peace and justice among the Indian 
tribes and thereby promoting, even from a remote 
residence, the welfare of the young English colonies. 

When Wyandanch felt that he must soon follow the 
shades of his fathers and journey toward the setting 
sun he commended his son and heir to the guardian- 
ship of his friend. Not only among the redmen did 
Gardiner enjoy a reputation for probity; his own 
countrymen sought his valuable counsel and aid — 
undertaking nothing of importance without first con- 
sulting the gallant pioneer of Long Island. 

More than fifteen years were spent in this beautiful 
island-home. Nature flourished and peace reigned 
about him — wife and children prospered, and inter- 
course with the mainland and neighboring islands 
became more frequent in proportion as the whalefish- 
ing industry increased. 

Little David, our lively boy, had now grown to man- 
hood, was well educated and versed in all the accom- 
plishments of the day. He had returned with a bride 
from England — where he had been sent to pursue his 
studies — and remained the devoted companion of his 
father until in the year 1663 death loosed the earthly 
bond and Lion Gardiner went to his eternal home. 
After this great loss Mary lived to have the pleasure 


122 


A Tale of the Pequot War. 


of knowing that her son and his descendants in the 
male line, who inherited the property, would bear the 
title of Lord with unlimited authority on the island, 
exactly like a true lord in old England, their mother- 
country. 

Two hundred and seventy-nine years have come and 
gone ! 

Twelve lord-proprietors of the Gardiner family have 
governed, in succession, this beautiful estate; they 
have also been faithful in performance of duty during 
important events in American History. 

Good deeds of brave men, when recorded, make 
instructive and interesting reading that cannot fail to 
stimulate patriotism in the mind of youth. 

Happy he or she whose ancestors have been a credit 
to race and country ! 

May the descendants endeavor to follow con- 
scientiously the path laid out for them with such 
sacrifice, self-abnegation and courage by these honest 
pioneers ! 






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